Woods
by New.York.Celt
Summary: Drug and Violence Unit Agent Bailey Woods, an old friend of Hotch's, is brought onto a case to help build a profile of a homicidal drug lord. If her helping the BAU was a one time thing, why can't she seem to forget about a certain handsome genius? If she was just another agent, why couldn't Reid forget about her either? Story contains explicit language, drug use, & sexual content.
1. Chapter 1: Into the Woods

This is my first Criminal Minds story! I'm starting in the second season, just before Elle left the team!

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It wasn't often that the BAU team brought in extra help.

So, it was very surprising when Hotch called an early morning meeting one day in December. Rain thundered down, darkening the sky and creating an uncomfortable amount of humidity. JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Elle, Gideon, and Reid were settled in the meeting room, ready for their next case.

Hotch entered the meeting room and began introducing the case with his typical seriousness. With a singular nod towards Garcia, the peppy tech-head began to start up the projector. With a grimace and a swift click, Garcia had pulled up the new case photos. Four images of blonde women popped up on the screen, each of them looked like they were sleeping.

"Happy morning, my little duckies! Our new case is a little _strange_." Garcia said, clicking away at her data-pad. "Four women, each were battling different forms of cancer, were murdered. Stephanie Clancy, age 35, breast cancer. Louisa Minch, age 27, liver cancer. Giuliana Padula, age 29, stomach cancer. And Charlise Rodgers, age 24, stomach cancer. All victims were in the later stages of their cancers."

"Doesn't look like they were beaten. They look completely normal" Morgan said, focusing on the unblemished skin of the victims. JJ furrowed her brows at the images of the women; each looking peaceful and angelic. Not one had marred skin, not even a bruise. Some had dark rings under their eyes and a lack of hair from chemotherapy, but they seemed very peaceful and unbeaten.

"Yes, but take a look at their toxicology report." Hotch said as the next piece of visual evidence popped up on the screen. "Looking at each of the women's toxicology screenings, it looked like they had been poisoned with arsenic."

"Long term by the looks of it. There's far too much poison in these women's systems to be a single dose of arsenic." Doctor Reid said, his eyes quickly scanning the charts.

"I've decided that we need another set of eyes for this case. There are direct links with the drug world with these killings." Hotch said solemnly.

"Where do the drug connections come in?" Morgan asked impatiently.

"A lot of cancer patients use medical marijuana." Hotch said, nodding at Garcia to continue onto the next piece of visual information.

"Marijuana is used to increase the patient's appetite and reduce nausea. Cancer patients have a hard time with appetite because of the stress and painful treatments." Reid said.

"All four women, since they lived in a state _without_ legal marijuana, had the same drug dealer. His name is Ross Melorie. He's been investigated for trafficking drugs across the Mexican border." Hotch said, looking down at his cell phone. "So, I've called in an agent from the illegal drug unit."

"An illegal drug agent?" Elle murmured to herself, sounding intrigued.

"Is there enough evidence to prove that the connections between these murders and drug cartels to call in a special agent?" JJ questioned, hoping for more information.

"We've got information proving that Melorie was in debt for thousands of dollars to his supplier. Melorie's favorite way of smuggling drugs is implanting the drugs into another living being. Usually young children, elderly people, or ill women." Hotch said confidently. "It would be easier to work on a profile alongside someone from the illegal drug until. And, Agent Woods only works three floors downstairs; it isn't that much of an inconvenient trip for her."

"You've always been about _convenience_, eh Arron?"

The BAU team turned in the chairs, towards a small woman who stood in the doorway. The woman smiled a large, wicked looking grin at Hotcher, who smiled back softly.

"Team, this is illegal drug unit agent Bailey Woods." Hotcher introduced the woman, who playfully waved at the BAU agents. "She's agreed to help fill in the blanks about Ross Melorie."

"I hope I'm not intruding. I can come back later." Woods said, worriedly tapping her fingers against the doorway.

"No, come in. We just started talking about Melorie." Hotch said, gesturing to an open seat. Woods smiled once more, cautiously walking into the crowded room. The blonde woman slumped slightly in the seat, her elbows on the tabletop.

"This is the BAU team. JJ, our liaison between local police stations and the press. Special agent Derek Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes. Special agent Doctor Spencer Reid. Special agent Jason Gideon. Special agent Elle Greenaway. And Penelope Garcia, our head tech support." Hotch said, nodding to each of his team.

"I prefer the term _technological goddess_." Garcia chirped, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Woods' smile widened into an almost wolf-like grin.

"It's nice to meet you all." Woods said graciously, her cornflower blue eyes twinkling brightly. "Just call me Bailey and we won't have any problems."

The small, almost relieving round of chuckles filled the room. The agents had a moment to relax before it was back to business. It was revealed that all four women had strange lacerations on their stomachs, like someone had been trying to open up their bodies.

"Maybe Melorie was trying to cut open the women to use them for drug transportation. It wouldn't be the first time he's done that. These women might have owed him money and this was their way of repaying them, but it went wrong." Woods said softly, frowning at the pictures of the four victims.

"That's what we're going to find out. We're leaving for Louisiana in the morning." Hotch said seriously. The meeting ended with Hotch grabbing the case files and rushing out the door. Agent Woods coughed nervously, gingerly getting out of her chair.

"How long have you worked with the drug unit, Woo-_Bailey_?" Morgan asked, choosing to use the agent's first name because of the playful glare the blonde shot his way. Morgan figured he'd try to break some of the initial ice before the four hour ride to Louisiana.

"Almost a year. I came to work fresh outta college. I dabble with the missing persons unit, as well. Aaron said you're an expert in obsessional crimes, that sound's extremely specific." The blonde woman said, shrugging her large bag onto her shoulder.

"Obsession is a huge part of a lot of kidnappings and murders." Morgan said, winking at Garcia.

"_Ohh_, yes!" Garcia cooed, smirking at Morgan. "My chocolate thunder God is an important part of our team. And my every waking dream!"

Morgan laughed deeply, wrapping his arm around Garcia's shoulders in a friendly side hug. Woods laughed, the chuckle coming deep from her gut.

"I think I'm gonna like you, Tech-Mama!" Bailey chuckled.

"_Oooooh_! Tech-Mama! I love it!" Garcia bubbled happily, quickly trotting out of the room with a huge smile on her face.

"Are you local, Bailey?" Elle asked politely, smiling at the shorter woman.

"No. I'm from upstate New York." Woods answered, smiling up at the taller woman.

"Virginia must be a nice little change." Morgan chimed in. Doctor Reid and JJ observed the new blonde agent quietly; their eyes trained on her every move.

"I have some family further south, so Virginia isn't new territory or anything." Bailey shrugged carelessly.

"What part of Virginia?" Reid asked, trying to appear casual. He was doing a pretty good job until Agent Woods' cornflower blue orbs met his hazel. Reid could instantly feel the sweat beginning to form and his throat start to constrict.

"Newport News." Bailey said, staring up at the taller agent. "It's about two hours south of here, but I've spent a lot of time all around Virginia, so it wasn't that hard of a transition."

"_A-a-ah_, N-Newport News." Reid said, attempting to clear his throat. "The city sits on a prime vantage point w-where the James River meets the, _uh_, the Chesapeake Bay. The City runs approximately 23 miles along the J-James River and the Hampton Roads Harbor. Since the turn of the 19th century, Newport News has been known as the provider of the nation's finest, technologically advanced military ships."

JJ, Elle, and Morgan cringed as Spencer began to ramble. Many people had reacted poorly towards their loveable genius' rants, and it was only a matter of time before Agent Woods grew uncomfortable with Spencer's statistics and random bits of information.

"You've been to Newport?" Bailey asked, cocking her head to the side.

"N…_uh,_ no. I've just read the, _ahem_, government reports." Reid cleared his throat once more.

"I've read the report for my home city, but I lost interest when reading the others. Besides, they put too much information for me to remember." Bailey laughed, scratching the back of her head.

"Not for me. I have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 of words per minute." Spencer said softly, smiling shyly at the blonde's surprised expression.

"Wow! And you get all the details of everything?" Bailey questioned. Spencer smiled, his ego puffing up.

"Once again, eidetic memory. I remember all." Spencer said, internally wincing at his own lack of humility. Bailey smiled, a spark of mischievousness in her grin.

"I'll make sure to test you on that once or twice. I'll see you guys on the airstrip tomorrow." Bailey chuckled, leaving the meeting room with a quick spin and strut out the door.


	2. Chapter 2: The First Case

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**_Spencer_**

Morgan and I were at the airstrip far before the sun rose the next morning. The only other person on the plane was JJ, who was on skype with Garcia. The two women jerked in surprise when Morgan and I stepped into the jet.

"Sorry, we thought you were Agent Woods." JJ chuckled with a small smile.

Why would she think that? Was JJ worried about the new agent?

"I've spent the last few hours digging up some facts on our new friend." Garcia said, blowing a quick kiss towards Morgan. Her neon pink painted nails flew across the keys, her eyes widening in joy as she found the information she had been digging for.

"Full name: Bailey Peregrin Woods. Age 25. She's got a double degree in creative art therapy and psychology. She's worked with the illegal drug unit for almost a year now and has assisted the kidnapping unit a handful of times. Recently relocated to Quantico from Troy, New York. Lives alone. No husband or boyfriend or kids. Not even a pet goldfish." Garcia said quickly, earning a pleased nod from JJ and a curious look from Morgan.

"We're just making sure Agent Woods is legit." Garcia explained her reason for being nosey, batting her eyes at Morgan.

_Legit_? Woods works in the same building as us. She probably had to take all the same psychological evaluations that we had too, as well.

"Hotch knows her well. If their friendly greeting towards each other was anything to go by." I said, taking a seat on one of the plush chairs. I slung my messenger bag off my shoulder and gently lowered it beside my feet.

"Anything else you noticed, Genius?" Morgan chuckled sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Obviously female," I muttered back sarcastically. "Irish. Tries to be very organized, but is naturally the opposite. Everything she wore seemed to be blue or green. Blue meaning calmness, serenity and is often associated with water and peace. Green meaning health, tranquility, money, and is often associated with nature."

"Or I just _like_ green and blue."

I felt myself almost pole-vault out of my seat in shock. There, in the entrance of the jet, was Agent Woods herself.

This woman must have the superpower of appearing in doorways whenever someone was talking about her.

A very specific and somewhat pointless power.

"Good morning, all." Woods greeted, her sky blue orbs widening at the interior of the jet. "Sweet ride. I'm a nervous flyer myself, but I've gotta admit this jet is _sweet_."

"This jet is made for necessity, not for '_sweetness'_, Bailey." Hotch said, entering the jet with Elle and Gideon on his heels. Woods' face lit up with happiness, her cheeks dimpling.

"_Sweetness_ is always an afterthought for you." Woods laughed, sitting down beside Hotch. Hotch smiled for a millisecond before his face smoothed out into his usual bland expression.

"Sweetness is often misconstrued as vanity." Hotch spoke softly, turning his attention to JJ and Garcia, who were openly watching him and Woods interact. The two blondes smiled, earning an amused head shake from Hotch.

"Vanity is overrated." Woods shrugged her shoulders, pulling her legs underneath her body to sit Indian style.

The jet was quickly prepared for departure and was racing down the airstrip just as the sun was peaking on the horizon. Woods, settled in between Hotch and Gideon, looked calm as she spoke to Gideon, but her tense grip on her knees proved otherwise. Her long fingers were dug so deeply into her skinny black cargo pants that her knuckles were turning white.

"Are you uncomfortable?" I couldn't help but lean over from my chair and ask. Woods' attention turned to me, her eyes softening. The blonde worried her lip with her teeth for a second before shrugging.

"I'm not exactly rolling in frequent flyer miles." Woods chuckled, loosening her grip on her knees. "I'm just not a fan of turbulence or take off. I'm fine though, it's all mind over matter. Thank you, Doctor Reid."

"Y-you don't have to call me doctor. I mean, _ah-ah-ah_, I am a doctor, but you d-don't have to, _ah_, call me one." I rambled, feeling myself start to sweat. Great, another new agent who thinks I'm just some inept hermit who only knows how to talk to robots and textbooks.

"Just call him Spence, right Boy Wonder?" Morgan, who was sitting across from me, chuckled.

"Boy Wonder? _Oh-la-la._ If the good doctor here is Robin, then are you Batman, Morgan?_"_ Bailey laughed. Her laughter was a deep, rich sound that thundered from deep within her tiny body. I couldn't help but chuckle at Morgan's surprised expression.

"Although, I would have pegged you as a Doctor Banner of sorts. Maybe a Doctor Druid or a Doctor Strange." Bailey hummed, rubbing her pale cheek in thought.

"I'd place my money on Doctor _Strange_." Morgan teased. Hotch shot him a careful look, causing a playful grin to widen on Morgan's face.

"You read comic books? It looks like Spence is going to have a comic pal!" JJ sang, looking at me with a small smile.

"Spencer?" Gideon called, holding his travel chess set with a smile.

_Salvation_!

Feeling my throat clinching uncomfortably, I excused myself to go play a few rounds of chess. Gideon and I moved to the back of the jet and began setting up the chess board.

"What do you think, Reid?" Gideon asked softly, his eyes trained on our game as I made the first move.

"About what?" I asked, trying to plan out what move Gideon was plotting to play. Gideon smiled, pursing his lips in thought. His eyes glanced towards Agent Woods quickly before he moved his pawn.

"Agent Woods." Gideon mused. "What's going on in your head?"

"Agent Woods seems nice enough. Her appeal for us to refer to her using her first name suggests that Agent Woods easily allows people into her social circle. Her anxiety with flying could indicate her displeasure of not being in control. Comic book reader…could mean she read young because she was a lonely, quiet child; or began to read later on in life due to popular culture." I made a quick assumption.

Our game was silent for the next few moves. I could hear Bailey and Morgan joking around with JJ and Elle at the front of the jet. They joked around for a little while, and soon I had begun to ignore their laughter due to the intensity of the chess game.

"I see…five moves." I whispered. Gideon smirked, quickly checkmating me. I let out a frustrated sigh as Gideon patted me on the shoulder and started resetting the board.

_Someday._

* * *

**_Bailey_**

We landed in Baton Rouge, Louisiana just before eleven o'clock. I had fun getting to know Morgan, JJ, and Elle better on the long plane ride. Thankfully, no one mentioned how I tightened my jaw or how my knuckles whitened whenever the jet hit a bit of turbulence.

Aaron, always the bland emotion genie, kept silent for most of the flight. I tried to prod at him a few times into talking, which seemed to surprise his team. Didn't they know that Aaron loved a little taunting?

"Bailey, can I ask you something?" JJ, whose real name I discovered was Jennifer, asked me once we had begun to exit the plane.

"Sure." I said, shrugging my backpack straps onto a more comfortable placement on my shoulders.

"How do you know Hotch? I don't mean to be nosey." JJ smiled shyly. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out. _Hotch_? I'd have to remember that little gem of a nickname.

"He was neighbors with some cousins of mine when I was a kid. He'd get paid ten bucks an hour to come over and watch us beat on each other." I summarized, not wanting to give too detailed of an explanation.

"And you've kept in touch? With a babysitter?" JJ chuckled, which I understood. It was odd for a grown woman to keep in contact with the man who used to babysit her. But, in all honesty, Aaron had spent so much time with my cousins and I, that all of us considered him one of us. He must have spent at least three nights a week watching my two cousins and me for over five summers.

"He took care of me and my cousins a lot. A lot more than he needed to. Once, I tried sneaking out of the house when he was watching us. I ended up falling on the last step and ripping my foot open. Aaron carried me to his car, drove me to the E.R., and then got me off the hook with my parents for trying to sneak out." JJ began to laugh loudly, her eyes filling up with tears.

Was it that hard to imagine? That the vanilla Aaron Hotchner used to be a goody-two-shoes babysitter.

"He's a good guy. I'm not going to lie; Aaron pulled a lot of strings to get me an interview to work for the FBI." I said as casually as I could to end the conversation. "I agreed to help with this case 'cause I owe Aaron everything."

There were two black SUVs waiting for us in the parking lot. Aaron, Gideon, and I got into one while Reid, JJ, Morgan, and Elle stepped into the other vehicle. We rode to the nearest hotel to drop our bags off before rushing off to meet with the Baton Rouge police.

The police chief was nice. After all, why wouldn't he be? We were pretty much coming to make his life and job easier. I never understood why some police officers wouldn't appreciate the FBI's help. Solving crimes wasn't about pride; it was about serving the victims and protecting the innocent.

"Aaron, I want to go investigate the victim's apartments." I said, hoping that Aaron would agree. I really did not want to be stuck in this stuffy boardroom that the officers had cleared out for our use. They clearly thought that we were going to be here for a while. Aaron nodded, tossing me the keys to one of the black SUVs.

"Take Reid with you."

* * *

"So, tell me about yourself." I said to Reid as we walked to the SUV parked on the curb outside. Reid seemed stiff and uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to play twenty questions. Maybe music would work better.

"Uh…ah.._ahem_, ah…" Reid stuttered, adjusting the navy blue tie that was knotted around his neck.

"Sorry, I don't mean to put you on the spot. No stress." I said, clicking open the massive SUV. I couldn't wait to drive this baby! It took me a moment or two to adjust the seat, but it was all worth it for the smoothness of the ride as I steered us onto the street.

Trying to save ourselves from the awkwardness that permeated the air, I jabbed the radio on and began blindly scanning the radio. The first listenable channel was Christmas music, which made me groan and slap the steering wheel.

"Not, uh, one for Christmas music?" Reid asked, his fingers drumming nervously against the passenger door.

"It's been on the radio since _November_. They could at least give Halloween a pity week before making everything Christmas themed." I grumbled, taking a turn onto the main road.

"You like Halloween?" Reid asked, sounding intrigued.

"It's a holiday where people dress up, play tricks, and get candy. That's got the makings of a damn good holiday!" I joked, causing the BAU agent to chuckle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I inspected Doctor Reid as I drove. He was a lanky gentleman, with chin length brown hair and intelligent hazel eyes. His crisp white shirt was tucked into his brown corduroy pants, and I smiled as I noticed his bright red socks poking out of his converse sneakers.

Different.

Different is good.

"Halloween, one of the greatest of Pagan holidays. Second largest recognized holiday, only beat out by Christmas." Spencer said with a happy sigh.

"I can see why; with the whole presents versus candy debate." I laughed, smiling at the doctor's light laugh. The rest of the ride was almost painfully silent. I had found a 60's and 70's music station, which Reid didn't seem too bothered by. I noticed that he seemed very stiff and he had a death grip on his seatbelt.

I don't think I'm _that_ bad of a driver.

We arrived at the first victim's home after a few minutes. It was a nice little ranch house painted with bright colors and decorated with lovely '_DO NOT CROSS'_ police tape. Reid and I had to flash our FBI badges to the few detectives who were posted out front to be allowed in.

"Where should we begin?" Reid asked so softly, I couldn't tell if it was a rhetorical question or not.

"I'll scope out the kitchen." I said, grabbing a pair of latex gloves from the box on the counter and snapping them on. The kitchen looked relatively clean, but there were strange foods and drinks scattered around.

"Homeopathic cures…" I mumbled to myself. The first victim, Miss Stephanie Clancy, seemed to have been dabbling with food medicine. She had several foods that had been known to have high antioxidant percentages, which was a key for negating illnesses. I began opening the kitchen drawers and poking around all the cabinets. In one of the higher cabinets was a large cookie jar.

"Hello, hello, hello." I muttered, pulling the ornate blue jar down onto the counter. Opening up the jar revealed a large stash of marijuana.

"Doctor Spencer!" I called teasingly, hearing a soft bump come from the other room, followed by hurried footsteps. Reid was in the kitchen a moment later, holding a manila envelope in his hand.

"What'dya find?" I asked, watching as the doctor pulled out four stacks of one-hundred dollar bills from the envelope.

"Who has this much money on hand?" Reid muttered, sliding the money back into the envelope.

"Maybe Miss Clancy knew she was dying and wanted to give away all of her personal belongings and assets." I suggested, watching Spencer's eyes fade out in thought.

"But the envelope isn't addressed to anyone. And Clancy's jewelry is still all intact. Usually the first personal belongings that dying people give away are jewelry, heirlooms, and photos." Reid said softly, his eyes turning to the rest of the kitchen. He walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed a small notepad that was resting there, reading it in a few seconds.

"I don't think Clancy was planning on dying any time soon. This is a schedule planner. Some of her appointments and dates are set as far as four months from now. Clancy knew she was dying, but she didn't think it was in the near future." Reid said softly, flicking through the note pad once before handing it to me. It was a pretty simple planner, with doctors' appointments and birthday reminders.

"I found Clancy's pot stash in the upper cabinet. She seems to have been trying to eat a lot of food with antioxidants as a homeopathic cure." I said, flipping through the planner.

Damn, this woman's handwriting was neater than a typewriter.

"We should, _ahem_, check out the garden. That's were Clancy's body was found." Reid said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He pulled the sliding glass back door open and stood to the side, offering me to step out first.

"Thank you!" I said, stepping out and motioning for Reid to exit. The genius chuckled, stepping out before I slid the door closed behind us.

"Over here." Reid ushered us over to a corner of the large, botanical garden-esqu yard. There was a little meditation mat placed down among the brightly colored lilies. A marker in the ground indicated where the body was found.

"All the victims were found in their backyards. Each of them had very large gardens and were found lying down flat in the right far most corner of the yard. Like they were sleeping." Reid mumbled to himself, kneeling down in the grass.

"What're you doing?" I asked, watching in confusion has Reid began to poke through the grass.

"Looking for anything that's small enough to be overlooked." Reid said, running his fingers through the grass. I stepped into the bed of lillies to see if a weapon or any personal belongings had been tossed in the brush.

The lilies all looked normal. It was what was hidden behind the tall lilies that caught my eye.

"Doctor, we've got some lovely plants back here." I said, looking at the six planted and preened pot plants hidden behind the lilies. They looked healthy enough for one person to have enough for a long time.

"Why did she have a dealer, if she was growing pot in her yard?" I muttered to myself, hearing Reid awkwardly traipsing through the lilies behind me. His eyes widened when he saw the plants, his brows quickly furrowing in thought.

"Maybe her killing wasn't because of debt." Reid said, pursing his lips. "Maybe she angered someone by starting her own system."

"Call Aaron. Have him check the other victim's gardens. Maybe they were growing, too." I said, stepping out of the lily bed. Reid pulled out his phone before stepping away to make the call.


	3. Chapter 3: The Jeep Jump

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The hotel room was perfect for me. A nice, comfy bed with clean smelling sheets, a TV with a remote, and a shower with those complimentary mini-soaps.

Then again, I've always been pretty low maintenance.

One of my absolute necessities was sleep. I became a little rage monster if I didn't get enough sleep. Which, is why I was damning everyone and everything when my phone began ringing at one in the morning.

"Woods." I answered my cell phone, rolling over in my hotel bed. The moon poured light into the room from the widow, but was out shined by the bright TV that I had fallen asleep to. That was one of my strange sleep quirks; I needed something on to sleep, whether it be music, TV, or a movie. I couldn't sleep in dead silence.

The silence gave me too much opportunity to think and freak myself out.

"Hello, new meat." A coy voice cooed over the phone. The voice was so unique, it didn't take me a single second to recall who it was.

"Tech-Mama? How'd you get this number?" I growled playfully, causing Garcia to chuckle evilly. I could hear her clicking around at her desk, the almost silent buzz of computers humming in the background.

Who the hell was still working at this time?

"Oh, I know powerful people in high places. I've got some new information that Hotch told me to share with you, Lovely Lady." Garcia hummed, typing quickly on her keyboard.

"It turns out that our four women, weren't just taking medical marijuana, they were farming pot and selling it to the other women in their cancer support groups." Garcia said, sounding scandalized.

"This is getting more and more complicated." I said, raking my fingers through my greasy hair. I knew I should have showered before bed. "I'll look into it tomorrow morning. I just need a damn shower, some bad movies, and a lot more sleep."

"I hear you, Woodsy! Goodnight and good will! Sleep well, Chickadee!" Garcia said, making a quick _smooching_ noise before hanging up. I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for my late night shower.

Damn, I really love these little courtesy shampoo and soaps.

* * *

"Did Garcia call you last night?" Aaron asked me the next morning at breakfast. The team decided to have breakfast in the hotel before heading off to the police department. I nodded, since my mouth was stuffed with waffle, and swallowed.

"Yeah. Do you think Melorie killed those girls 'cause he was the middleman that got cut out?" I asked, slumping in my seat.

Four innocent deaths. Just because a man got cut out of some profit?

"People have killed for less." Elle muttered, spearing some melon on her fork.

"Greed is a very common occurrence in murders." Reid said, stirring his large coffee.

Did I just see him pour ten sugar packets into his coffee?

"That doesn't explain why the victims were cut open. And why poison? Why not just quickly get rid of them?" JJ asked, furrowing her brows.

"Poison is more…personal. Especially if the pain is drawn out. The unsub could get pleasure from the suffering of his victims. Or just be too weak to attack physically." Gideon added, stirring his own paper cup of coffee.

"Add that to the pleasure of physically wounding them, but no signs of sexual assault. Purses and jewelry were left untouched. The bodies were placed carefully and lovingly, almost cushioned in their flowers. The unsub knew the victims well. He recognized them as people." Reid said, stirring his coffee, which I was positive was now more of syrup than a liquid.

"So, we're looking for a people-person, friendly, physically weak, killer?" I questioned, one brow rising. Morgan laughed, almost choking on his orange juice.

"We should focus on the victims close friends and we still need to find Melorie." Aaron said, looking far too serious for this early in the morning.

"Tell Garcia to check Melorie's bank and credit cards. He wouldn't draw out large sums of money, as not to seem suspicious. If I was him, and I had just committed four murders, I'd go to where I felt safe. His mother lives down on Shelby Road. He'd go there first, but he wouldn't stay for long." I said, finishing off my breakfast tea.

"Why not for long?" Elle asked, crumpling up her napkin. "If he feels safe there, why not stay?"

"He's flaky. He's pissed off some of his superiors. He doesn't want to mess with his mother's safety. Some of these cartel guys…they don't care who they kill. Elderly. Pregnant. Infants." I muttered, feeling a shudder crawl down my spine.

"In your opinion, where would Melorie go?" Gideon asked, folding his arms across the table. I mulled over the question, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Low level dealers like Melorie are most likely loners. Did poorly in highschool, but had a lot of friends. Those friends flew the coop soon after graduation. He'll feel like a disappointment in all aspects except with his drug dealings." I hummed, pushing my plate away from me.

"So, he would become violent if the one thing he felt he was good at was taken away from him." Aaron grumbled, nodding his head.

"_Possibly_. Most low levelers are cowards. Most can barely look a person in the eye and lie, forget about killing someone." I said, rotating my shoulders until they cracked. Spencer and Elle cringed at the sound of popping bone, but it felt too nice to care.

"Reid, JJ, and Morgan will go to Melorie's mother's house. Bailey, you're with Gideon, Elle, and I at the police station." Aaron said, putting an end to a relatively dull breakfast.

The BAU team was ten times more miraculous than Aaron made them out to be. They were all such awesome people with distinct personalities that somehow never smothered each other. Each member understood each other with such clarity; it created an unstoppable force of minds.

JJ and Morgan were pretty cheery people and easy to talk to. JJ had this warm, comforting glow about her that just made you feel good; like you had just spent a few hours lying in the sun. Morgan had a playful and light personality, with a certain twinkle in his deep eyes. He gave off confidence and kindness that seemed to rub off on everyone around him.

Gideon was a kind, sensitive man. Crafty son of a gun to boot. Gideon was straight to the point, but careful and considerate with his words. He reminded me of an all knowing Santa Claus, but with a quicker wit and a smaller gut.

Elle, whose last name I found out was Greenaway, was more of the strong, silent, slightly-sarcastic type. She hadn't said much to me that didn't pertain to the case, but she did smile a lot. She gave off this forced calm exterior that put me on edge. I felt like Elle was waiting for something horrible to happen, if her constantly stiff posture and glossy eyes were anything to go by.

Reid was a strange creature. I could tell by the way he held himself that he wasn't a very social animal. He used his words like weapons and his intelligence like armor to protect himself. Reid gave off the feeling of a calm, kind, and intelligent man that held humility in himself and had a deep understanding of others.

I also noticed that one of his smaller suitcases was filled with books. How long did he expect for us to be in Louisiana?

Aaron, was just typical Aaron. I thought after he had a kid, he might loosen up a bit. He loosened up around his son, a handsome little man named Jack, but not in all aspects of his life. I was worried about him grinding himself too hard too fast, but I knew that Aaron loved making a difference in the lives of people.

I hadn't talked much to Garcia, but I knew that the tech goddess and I were going to be damn good friends.

After breakfast, the team split up and got into our perspective SUVs. I've never been so thankful for air conditioning in my _entire_ life. I could practically feel myself melting out of my own skin. I thought I was going to have to peel myself off the leather seats by the time we got to the station, and that was _with_ the cold air blasting.

"I want you to ask the police about any local places where a low level drug dealer would hide." Aaron ordered once we pulled and parked outside the station.

"Typical deserted places. Warehouses, motels, sewer tunnels, abandoned buildings, parks." I muttered, climbing out of the massive vehicle and dragging myself into the muggy atmosphere of the police station.

What? Baton Rouge couldn't give their boys and girls in blue a decent air conditioner?

I shuffled off to talk to the chief of police; a tall man with the bushiest moustache that I've ever seen. His name was Chief David Solace and he'd been with the police for over thirty-five years.

"Hello?" I called after I knocked on the Chief's open office door. "I'm Agent Bailey Woods. I'm with the FBI to investigate on the Cancer Serial Killer."

Yeah. _That_ was the killer's name. The press was really losing their touch when it came to naming murderers.

"Yes, yes! Please come in! Thank you for taking your time to come help us. What can I do for you? I've already spoken to an Agent Gideon about the perp's profile." Chief Solace said, gesturing towards a comfortable looking chair that was seated in front of his desk.

"I was wondering if there were any places of interest for us. Places that low level criminals go to lie low? Places where kids go to buy drugs for the first time. Abandoned places, parks, schools?" I asked, settling down in the chair. Chief Solace thought for a moment, a crinkle forming in-between his eyes.

"There is a parking garage on Goodwood Boulevard. Not a lot of people use it, since they're not the safest of places. We've busted a lot of teenagers going up there with large sums of money. We've got a few abandoned warehouses, too. I'll give you the addresses." Chief Solace said, quickly scribbling down five different addresses in neat, slanted writing.

Does everyone in Baton Rouge have nice handwriting?

Is it something in the water?

"Thank you so much, Chief Solace." I thanked, snagging the list from him and hoofing it out of the office. I found Elle, Gideon, and Aaron standing at a large corkboard that was filled with pictures of the murdered women and of Melorie.

"We've got five places of general interest. All abandoned warehouses except for one seldom used parking garage. I say I go there, ASAP!" I said in a rush, ready to find Melorie. Aaron frowned as he took the list of addresses from me.

"Go to the parking garage first. Take Elle with you, I'll give these to Garcia to check into." Aaron muttered, tossing me the keys to the SUV. Elle and I smiled to each other and were on the road within the next few minutes.

"What are the chances that we'll find Melorie at this parking garage?" Elle asked after a few moments of calm silence.

"He wouldn't leave Baton Rouge unless he was really feeling the heat from the boys in blue. Baton Rouge is where he makes his money and he knows his customers. If he leaves this city, he loses also his income." I said, following the SUV's built in GPS to the parking garage.

"Can't he start anew? New place, new customers?"

"He believes what he's doing is providing people a precious gift. He believes he's providing a good, wholesome product to the masses." I said, stopping at a red light.

"He doesn't think he's destroying families?" Elle asked, seeming confused.

"Melorie isn't a guy who decided to deal drugs when he fell on hard times. He's been abusing hard drugs since he was old enough to drive. His brain's fried." I muttered, speeding down the street.

"Fried? Like those old commercials that depicted your brain on drugs was like an egg frying?" Elle asked, a hint of sarcastic humor blossoming forth.

"Exactly." I chuckled, pulling off to the side of the road. Built alongside a dilapidated old mall, was a rickety looking parking garage. I pulled my Glock 42 off my right side holster and readied myself for the possibility of a fire fight.

"This looks like a place Scooby-Doo would investigate." I muttered, nodding at Elle to follow me into the parking garage. We swept through the first two floors with no problems. It was too early in the morning for anyone to be shopping at the mall, so there were no cars on any of the floors.

"It only has three floors." Elle said, closing the large metal door of the stairwell behind her. The last thing we needed was someone knowing that we were coming. The third floor was just as desolate as the others.

"Nothin', but why?" I hummed, loosening my grip on my gun.

"Maybe Melorie's brain isn't as fried as we thought." Elle commented, her sharp eyes evaluating the empty lot.

"I'd like to see his IQ compared to Doctor Spe-"

**_VROOM_**!

"Move!" I yelped, grabbing Elle by the sleeve of her coat and throwing our bodies against the cold cement wall. We hit the wall with twin groans, barley dodging the Jeep with dark tinted windows that tried to turn us into pancakes.

"What the-!?" Elle said, adjusting her grip on her gun. The car's brakes screeched to a halt before the Jeep Cherokee was put into reverse. Elle shot at the back tires, causing the Jeep to veer dangerously close to us. Quickly, I shot out the back window to try and get a closer look at the driver.

With smoking tires, the Jeep shot down the ramp towards the exit of the parking garage.

"You alright?" I asked, pulling out my cell phone and calling Chief Solace. Elle was instantly on her own phone, most likely calling Aaron.

"Other than bruises from your tackle, I'll be just fine." Elle muttered, cringing as she stood up straight. "What did you do before joining the FBI? Linebacker for the NFL?"

"I've been called a tank before." I chuckled hearing Chief Solace picking up his phone.

"Hello? Agent Woods?" Chief Solace answered, somehow knowing I was calling.

How the hell did everyone know my cell number?

Did I have it plastered on my ass?

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, Agent Greenaway and I have been attacked at the parking garage on the third floor. A dark blue Jeep Cherokee. Completely tinted window. Agent Greenaway shot out both back tires. I got the windshield down and from what I could tell, the person had short, dark hair." I said calmly into the line, slightly out of breath.

"Holy shit! Are you two okay?" Chief Solace swore, sounding breathless.

Bless this man. Bless him till the cows come home.

"We're fine. We'll make our way back to the station." I said, quickly ending the conversation. Elle was already on her feet and offered me her hand. She hauled me from my crouch against the wall and the two of us slowly made our way to our SUV.

"Can you drive? I think I got some windshield glass in my palms."

Elle threw her head back and laughed. A true, deep, honest laugh. She had the kind of laugh that made you join in.

"H-Hey! Don't laugh! I'm serious!" I laughed along. Anyone else would have thought we were crazy for laughing like we were after what just happened.

We were laughing because we were happy to be alive.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

"Learn anything from Melorie's mother?" Hotch asked when JJ, Morgan, and I returned from the unsub's mother's home. The house wasn't rundown and Angelina Melorie seemed like a kind woman.

"Not much. She admitted that Melorie never did well in school and fell off the beaten track. She tried to get him help. He didn't want it. The two only speak on holidays and they didn't have any close family." JJ said, tossing down a manila file. Just when Hotch was about to respond, his phone rang.

"Hotchner."

I watched the faint emotions run across Hotch's face as he listened to whoever was on the other line. Confusion, quickly followed by a flash of concern filtered across his normally stoic face.

"Hold on, let me put you on speaker. You've got JJ, Reid, and Morgan as well." Hotch said, flicking his phone on speaker. The sounds of heavy breathing sounded in the quiet boardroom that we had taken over as our impromptu base.

"Woods and I were just attacked in the parking garage." Elle said breathlessly over the line. I felt something inside his stomach seize tightly. _Attacked_? Were they wounded?

"By Melorie?" JJ asked, a concerned glint causing her eyes to become glassy.

"Could be. We got a good look at the back of his head when Woods blew out the back windshield. Short brown hair." Elle said.

_Good girl. _Most people would try to shoot out the tires. There was still tightness inside my torso that I couldn't identify. Elle didn't say if she or Woods were injured or not, and I was worried by her new trait of internalizing things. Elle still wasn't herself after being attacked in her own home. I'd seen her drinking a few times since the attack, but didn't have the guts to tell Hotch about it.

I just assumed it was Elle's way of coming to terms with her attack.

"We'll be at the station in fifteen." Elle coughed. The sounds of footsteps jogging down cement stairs as Elle's voice echoed off concrete walls came from the cell phone. Elle and Woods were already on the move.

"See you then." Hotch said, reaching for his phone. Before the line was cut, Elle and Woods began to speak. Hotch's hand froze, his face blank as he listened to the two women talk, not knowing that the line hadn't been cut.

_Wasn't this prying into a personal conversation? _

"Can you drive? I think I got some windshield glass in my palms."

A loud, bubbling laugh came from the line. Hotch smiled as Elle laughed so hard that there was a high likelihood of her falling down the stairs.

"H-Hey! Don't laugh! I'm serious!" Woods gaffed, her own laugh mirroring Elle's. I let a relieved smile cross my face when Hotch's smile widened a bit.

Woods' laugh was deep, just like it had been on the jet when she was joking with Morgan and JJ. Woods' laugh was genuine, but her laughter had a new sense of relief. Was she relieved she was alive? Relieved that she had mild wounds? Relieved that she was coming back?

Hotch snapped his phone shut, his smile long gone from his stoic face.

_'Why doesn't Hotch want us to know about the depth of his relationship with Agent Woods?'_ I said under his breath.


	4. Chapter 4: The First Case Is Over

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Thanks for my first review from R. J. North ! Thanks, love ;D

This chapter is just wrapping up the current case; not a lot of lovey-dovey here. I want you, as le readers, to understand Bailey's role as an FBI agent. This lady is not just a pretty face! She is one bomb ass drug agent!

The next chapter will be getting into some more of Bailey and Spencer's growing relationship!

* * *

**_Bailey_**

The first aid officer tweezed the slivers of glass out of my palms once Elle and I returned to the police station. It sucked to have both palms wrapped so tightly in itchy gauze, but it was better than being hit by a Jeep.

"How're you d-doing, Agent Woods? Besides the –_ahem_- whole…hands thing?" Doctor Reid asked me once I dragged myself back into the boardroom. The young doctor, as always, looked nervous as he lent against a large, rolling white board; where he seemed to be drawing a color coated map.

"Please, it's Bailey." I muttered, gingerly accepting a styrofoam cup of tea from a rather handsome officer. I thanked him, my eyes trained on his fine behind as he turned and left the boardroom.

"And I'm fine. _Oh, so fine_." I muttered the last part under my breath. They just don't make fine assets like those anymore. "My hands feel like they've been mummified, but it's better than being run over, I suppose. How are you doing, Doctor Spencer?"

"It's a-ah, _ahem_, just Spencer." Spencer coughed, shoving his hands into his sweater pockets.

"Alright, _just_ Spencer, how're things going?" I asked again, forcing down the smile that fought to come forth at Spencer's light blush.

"We learned little from the unsub's mother. We think he was the one who tried to attack you and Elle. Did you get a look at the license plate?" Spencer asked, uncapping one of his green dry erase markers.

"Not really, but I know for sure it was a Louisiana plate. Unlike some people, I don't have the memory of an elephant." I chuckled, causing Spencer to blush. His blush was interesting; it went down his neck, across his cheeks, and even reached his ears.

"Can't help it." Spencer said, turning his attention back to his colored map. Gideon was sitting in front of the corkboard of pictures, silent and brooding. Elle was chatting up the same officer that given me some tea. JJ was on the phone with the head of the local newspaper. Morgan was with Gideon, conversing softly as they eyed the pictures.

And Aaron was glaring at me from across the room.

With a groan, I hefted myself out of the chair and made my way across the room. "What's the problem, Sunbeam? Not enough gloom in your day?"

A sliver of a smile broke through Aaron's menacing glare. I couldn't help but chuckle, popping a squat in the seat beside Aaron.

"Is that a smile? _Damn_, Aaron, you can't give me a full blown, no bullshit smile?" I asked, pretending to be offended. Aaron snorted, flashing me an honest, carefree smile for a second before it faded back into a frown.

"Are you sure you're not positive that the driver was Melorie?" Aaron grumbled, his eyes flickering over towards the picture of Melorie on the cork board.

"It could have been. Same colored hair. Then again, how many millions of people have that same hair color?" I shrugged, relaxing in the world's most uncomfortable wooden chair.

"Where would he go now? What would he be doing?"

I took a moment to consider my options. "If it wasn't him in that Jeep, he would be hiding in the same area he's been in for the past few days. He'd be getting more comfortable if he hired someone to attack Elle and I. He'd feel like the heat was off him and onto this new hired hand."

"And if it was him?" Gideon asked, reclining in his chair.

"He'll be going to a new spot. Not too far away though. He still won't leave his city. This is _his_ territory." I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'd check the third address that Chief Solace gave us. Garcia says it's an abandoned trailer park right by a school. Perfect walking distance for Melorie's younger customers." Spencer said softly, marking a spot on his map with a red dot.

"See, you don't really need me, Aaron. You've got a walking internet connection right here!" I laughed, making Aaron smile for a second and Spencer flush a pretty pink tint.

"Morgan, let's head out to the trailer park." Aaron said, putting on his blazer that he had thrown over the back of his chair. "Woods, you stay here with Gideon and Reid. JJ, there's some reporters waiting outside. Elle, call Garcia and tell her what's happened. There might have been security cameras in the parking garage."

Everyone jetted off on Aaron's orders in the blink of an eye.

Wow…Aaron's ruling with an iron fist!

"Sure, sure. _Oh_, Aaron!" I called, suddenly remembering something. "If you encounter Melorie or any of his associates, they're going to be frightened. They don't want to possibly loose customers by being seen around the feds. Use that to your advantage."

Aaron nodded tensely, almost marching out of the station. I let out a relieved sigh, sipping at my boiling hot tea. Why the hell would anyone make tea this hot? Who hated taste buds so badly that they wanted to eradicate them with boiling tea-sludge?

Gideon was back to eyeballing the cork board of images and notes, hunched in his seat with his chin in his hand. I wanted to pick his brain a little more, but I didn't want to throw him off his profiling-mojo. I looked over to Spencer, who was bent over the white board.

"Can I help color?" I asked Spencer, who was now shading in areas of his intricate map with a purple marker. His head snapped towards me, his mouth dropping open.

"C-color? I-I'm making a map of-" He started stuttering, sputtering with wide hazel eyes.

"Map of the area in coordination with the crime scenes and places of interest, I know. I just want to do something mindless right now. Can I shade in something with you?" I asked, trying to smile pitifully at the doctor.

Maybe if I looked pathetic enough, he'd let me help.

Spencer's cheeks and neck turned a nice shade of red before he was able to shakily hold out a yellow marker towards me. "S-shade in Saint Mark's street, 4th, -_ahem_-, and Burdette."

"Thanks, Doctor Spencer." I said, snagging the yellow marker from his shaking hands and pulling my chair closer. Spencer hovered over me for a moment, watching me make short, even strokes with the marker. Was he nervous that I was gonna mess up his map?

"I may not be a genius, Sweetheart, but I am capable of coloring in three streets." I chuckled, not taking the doctor's nervousness to heart. Who knows how long it took him to make a map this intricate? Spencer soon joined Gideon in glaring down the cork board, only breaking his silence to hand me a new colored marker and telling me what to shade in.

"What if Melorie did skip town? Nothing's holding him back. He can easily make new customers." Spencer muttered, rubbing his chin with his long fingers.

"You're wrong, Doctor Spencer." I sang softly. "Those customers he's has now have been _his_ for a long time and have made him a lot of money. He's not going to give them up. Melorie is paranoid to the extreme, but his drugs are his craft. He gets the validation from his customers that no one has ever shown him."

* * *

"LET ME GO! Dammit, let me go!"

I sat up with a jump, wiping the drool off my chin that somehow appeared there while I was napping. The adrenaline that had pumped into my bloodstream from the attack dwindled away soon after I started helping Doctor Spencer with his map. I remember closing my eyes for a moment, but that was hours ago. Gideon looked like he was drowsy too, but Spencer looked like he was still going strong.

"Only took us two hours to track him down at the trailer park." Gideon said, nodding to the flailing Melorie that police were dragging into the interrogation room. He looked beaten to high hell.

"Garcia did find the cameras in the parking garage. The Jeep was bought using cash by a man named Felix Cook. One of Melorie's aliases." Elle said, stepping into the boardroom. "But he wasn't the one driving the Jeep in the footage. It was a woman."

I pushed myself to my feet, shaking away the pins-and-needles feelings in my legs. "He probably called that hit. Then it's time for me to say _thanks_ for almost turning me into a pancake."

Elle smirked, but I could see the worry in her stare. I patted her shoulder, thinking that she was on edge because the man that almost had us killed was only a few rooms away. Elle forced a smile, showing too much of her white teeth for it to be genuine. I smiled back at her, smoothed out my blue ¾ sleeved shirt, and stalked towards the interrogation room.

Ross Melorie sat handcuffed in the metal chair, shifting nervously. He looked exactly like his image that was on the cork board in the boardroom. He was a man in his late twenties of half Italian-half Mexican descent, with narrowed brown eyes and slightly grown out brown hair. He was sweating so badly it looked like he might just slip out of the chair. Just outside the interrogation room door, Aaron gave me a stiff look as he handed me a copy of the case file and unlocked the door for me.

I stepped into the unwelcoming interrogation room, closing the door gently behind me. Melorie looked up at me in shock, his brown eyes wide in surprise. I smiled as politely as I could, the soles of my flats clacking against the linoleum floor.

"Good afternoon, Mister Melorie. I'm Agent Bailey Woods and I'm here to ask you a few questions." I stated evenly, sitting down at the seat across the table. Melorie said nothing, just shook like a school boy that had gotten caught looking up a girl's skirt.

"Let's get started then." I said gently, laying the case file flat down on the metal table. "You're a drug dealer, correct Mister Melorie? Marijuana, ecstasy, cocaine, and meth? Quite a stock."

"I just sell pot, Ma'me." Melorie stuttered, his cuffed fists shaking.

"Is that why Baton Rouge's finest arrested you with ¼ a pound of cocaine in your bag?" I smiled softly, making Melorie wince. "Don't lie to me, Sweetheart, this will go much smoother and quicker if you don't."

"O-okay." Melorie gulped, quaking in his boots. "I-I-I sell all t-that."

Smiling, I stood and walked over to the water cooler in the far corner of the room. I turned my back to Melorie as I poured him a cup of water, showing him that I was not intimidated by him in the least.

"Drink, Sweetheart." I said, sitting back down and sliding the paper cup over to Melorie, who accepted the cup with shaking hands.

"Ross…why did you try to hit us with your car?" I asked as kindly as I could. Melorie's head snapped back like he was shocked. The reaction was too quick to be scripted. Melorie's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"Hit you?" Melorie said, shaking his head. "I've never hit you. I've never hit anyone!"

I sighed, shaking my head. Was he lying to me? He didn't look nervous, just confused. I pulled the image that Garcia was able to send over from the security cameras in the parking garage.

"A fellow agent and I were looking for you this morning. Do you know where this was taken?" I asked, slipping the image of Elle and I standing on the third floor of the empty parking garage.

"Yeah! I've been there a few times." Melorie confirmed, picking the picture up to study it for a moment. I slid another picture across the table, this one showing Elle and I on the ground with the Jeep zooming passed us. Melorie's face paled when he read the license plate number.

"This is the vehicle that was used." I said, tapping the tips of my fingernails against the image. "This Jeep was bought in cash under one of your aliases."

"B-but that wasn't f-for me!" Melorie gasped, recognizing the car.

"What do you mean it wasn't for you?" I prodded.

"I bought that for my mom! I want to go home!" Melorie growled, slamming his fists on the metal table. I frowned, not flinching at the booming sound.

"I've got to ask you a few more questions. Did you sell any drugs to these four women: Stephanie Clancy, Louisa Minch, Giuliana Padula, or Charlise Rodgers?" I said, pulling out the photographs of the four victims when they were alive. Melorie wet and pursed his lips before nodding his head, his chubby fingers tapping against the pictures.

"Yeah. These were four of my most beautiful ladies." Melorie said softly, his fingers skimming almost lovingly over the images. "They were sick…_real_ sick, _Ma'me_."

"They each had cancer." I said, noting that he said _'These were'_ instead of '_These are'_. He knew they were dead. Frowning, I pulled out four new pictures of the women; each on a metal slab in the morgue. Melorie didn't flinch at the images of the bodies, but his eyes did become downcast.

"They died, they were murdered. Someone poisoned them. I don't believe it was you." I said softly, trying to sound comforting. Melorie's head snapped up, his dark eyes glassy with fear.

"No, it wasn't you, was it? But you found them. You placed them in their flowers, so they would be comfortable. You know how they died and why. You need to tell me." I said softly, seeing the tremble in the man's shoulders.

"I-I didn't mean 'ta. S-she got mad w-when she found out them girls were plantin' their own pot." Melorie whispered brokenly, his voice distorted with anguish. "I'm a dealer, babe. That's all I am."

"Who's _she_, Ross." I coerced, cocking my head to the side. Melorie sniffled, his eyes becoming bloodshot.

"M-my mom."

* * *

**_Spencer _**

"Call Garcia! Tell her to start tracking Leah Melorie's cell phone. Her son identified the Jeep as his mothers and just implicated her in the murders of all four of our victims. Elle, Morgan, Gideon, you're with me. We're going after Leah. Reid, JJ, you stay here with Bailey. Try to get more out of Melorie." Hotch said, rushing out the door.

I felt instantly jealous watching Bailey in the interrogating room. I always felt uncomfortable questioning a witness. Words never came out smoothly, and I always flinched when the witness became violent or angry.

"Your mother? You've mentioned her twice now, but Sweetheart, your mother said she didn't approve of your craft." Bailey said quietly, sitting primly in the metal chair. I was in awe of how comfortable and in control she looked.

_Sweetheart_?

"S-she didn't a-at first. Then she s-saw how much p-people were w-willing to pay for m-my goods. T-thousands a week. Mom found out t-that the sick girls w-were trying to c-cut us out." Melorie stuttered, his hands shaking so badly that the paper cup began to totter. Where was the man that was angry as hell mere moments ago? He seemed to be shaken to the core by the realization that his mother was a murderer and tried to kill two federal agents.

"It's alright. There's no need to be so nervous. Just tell me what you know, and I'll tell the nice agents that I work with that you cooperated. We won't tell anyone you associated with us. All the outside world and your connections will know is that you refused to speak a single word to us." Bailey whispered, smiling so softly, so sweetly at the large man that I couldn't help but relax myself.

"Mom was going over to their h-houses every few weeks. Said she was a church counselor that was connected w-with their cancer counseling centers. None of e-em questioned. My mother h-had…tea with them every few weeks. _Special_ tea."

Tea.

The mother had been slipping arsenic into the tea.

Bailey frowned, a small crease between her eyebrows showing her confusion. She bit her lip, then the inside of her cheek before pulling out four more pictures from the case file.

"If your mother killed them by poisoning their tea, why would she cut their stomachs open?" Bailey asked, sliding the images over to Melorie.

"I-I don't know." Melorie said quietly with tears welling in his eyes. "Really, I don't."

Melorie suddenly gasped, his eyes widening. He finally realized that his mother was trying to set him up for murder. Bailey smiled, getting up from her chair and thanking Melorie for his time. She closed the automatically locking door behind her and pressed her back against it; a deep sigh coming from her.

"I think his mother's trying to incriminate him." Bailey whispered, biting down on her bottom lip. "Since Melorie was found not guilty of trying to transport drugs illegally; only his closest friends and family would know that he surgically implanted the drugs into his victim's stomachs."

"Hotch, Elle, and Gideon are hot on her heels. Miss Melorie fits our profile: white, middle aged, vengeful, and jealous." I sighed, watching the man that had been described as a hard shelled drug dealer begin to cry at the interrogation table.

Bailey nodded; a sad gleam in her blue orbs. She glanced once more towards Melorie before trotting off towards the boardroom.

"Was it something I said?" I whispered, watching the blonde rush off.

"Bailey just sweet talked a man into realizing that his mother's been backstabbing him for who knows how long." JJ said softly, frowning at Melorie, whose face was red because of the ferocity of his sobs.

JJ's phone went off about twenty minute later. It was Hotch; they had arrested Leah Melorie just when she was about to board a plane to Cuba. She'd admitted to poisoning the four women over the past six months.

Leah Melorie was tired of her deadbeat son; always calling and asking for money or somewhere to bunker down and hide for a few days. Her plan was to implicate her own son of the murder of these four girls, all because she was ashamed of what her son turned out to be.

He hadn't turned out to meet her expectations.

"Hotch says wheels up in an hour. We're going home." JJ said, her voice thick with relief. I sighed too, feeling the tenseness that was on my shoulders roll off in a wave of relief.


	5. Chapter 5: Lunch Dates and Loosing Elle

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Thanks to my lovely reviewers!

* * *

**_Bailey_**

The moment the team got back to the hotel, we each headed up to our rooms to pack our bags. I immediately changed out of my formal attire into a pair of sweatpants, a tank top, and a pair of flip flops. We all agreed to meet up in the lobby when we were ready to go. I did a final sweep of the room, closed the door behind me, and took the elevator to the lobby.

"Sleepwear chic!" Gideon laughed when we met up in the hotel's lobby. The others must have been packing up still, so the two of us were left to wait.

"We just solved four murders. If anyone in this world deserves to have a sweatpants day, it's us." I chuckled, feeling too comfortable to be self-conscious.

"Coffee?" Gideon suggested, nodding to the complimentary breakfast that was a few hours old; but still edible. I shrugged, hefting my luggage behind me as we made our way to a table.

"When in Rome." I said, snagging a few sausage patties onto my plate and smothering them with maple syrup. Gideon warily eyed my late breakfast before looking down at his scrambled eggs with fruit.

"That's all crap. Fat, cholesterol, sugar, and crap." Gideon teased, pouring cream into his coffee.

"God! I can't _wear_ what I want! I can't _eat_ what I want! Why did I agree to this relationship?" I said, forcing myself to stay completely stone faced. Gideon laughed loudly, earning confused glances from some of the hotel workers.

"H-hey!"

From the opened elevator stumbled a frumpy looking Doctor Reid. He was wearing a large, baggy sweater and was dragging his luggage behind him.

"Doctor Spencer." I greeted, smiling widely as the brunette stuttered out a hello and took a seat beside Gideon. Reid fumbled with his hands nervously for a minute, before muttering something about food and almost sprinting towards the complimentary breakfast.

"Jeez! It's like he's never seen muffins before." I chuckled, watching Reid pour himself an extra large coffee and pile at least eight mini-muffins on his plate. Gideon snorted into his coffee, a large smile crossing his face.

"Kid loves his sugar." Gideon said, smiling at Reid as he sat back down. Reid grabbed a handful of sugar packets that were placed in a container at the center of the table. I watched in awe as he poured packet after packet into his coffee.

"Are you diabetic yet?" I laughed, stabbing a piece of sausage and stuffing it in my mouth. Reid looked up at me, thought for a second, and went back to turning his coffee into a syrupy sugar concoction.

"The caffeine and sugar help jump start me." Reid said, beginning to peel the plastic liners off the bottom of the mini-muffins.

"Aren't you scared of cavities?" I said, noticing that Reid would rip the mini-muffins in half before eating the bottoms first and saving the tops for last.

"I regularly brush my teeth, thank you." Reid said blandly, still a little unpersonable because of exhaustion. Poor thing looked overworked, but happiness seemed to shimmer in his eyes, like he couldn't imagine anything better than finishing a case.

"What do you do in your line of work, Bailey?" Gideon struck up another line of conversation.

"My unit's a lot like the BAU, but instead of working on the behavior of serial killers, we work on drug related crimes. We're the DVU: Drug and Violence Unit. A lot of our job is breaking down drug gangs and trying to bring communities back from being terrorized by drug lords and scum bags." I said, pushing my plate away from me.

"And what specifically do you do?" Gideon asked in a curious manner.

"I usually interview family members, witnesses, suspects, or victims. I sometimes check the crime scene and _very_ rarely do I chase down the bad guys." I said, shrugging my shoulders. It was true; I saw much more action in interrogation rooms than out in the field.

This worked in my favor when people decided to underestimated me.

"Do you –_ahem_- find it easy to interview?" Reid asked, tapping his fingers against his coffee cup.

"It was intimidating at first. I was so worried about saying the wrong thing, or giving away the wrong amount of information. It gets easier over time, but there's always one or two people that are just stubborn." I laughed, recalling a few older women that I had to interview that refused to even speak to me.

"I've already poked at Gideon enough this morning. Reid, what do you do for fun?" I said, smiling at my fellow agent. Reid looked uncomfortable for a millisecond before a slightly uneasy smile spread across his lips.

"Uhhh…reading. A lot of reading." Reid said, his eyes focused on my forehead instead of my eyes.

Huh. Interesting.

"Cool." I said, picking over my words carefully. "What kinda books?"

Reid thought for a second, his hazel eyes shifting nervously. Why was he hesitating about books?

Oh God! He reads _Fifty Shades of Grey_…

Oh sweet Lord, please don't tell me all he reads is porn. Please, please, _please_. I don't care if he only reads _Beverly Cleary;_ just don't make it be porn!

"Most of them aren't in English. I, _ahhh_, I read a lot of Chaucer, Shakespeare..." Reid trailed off, still choosing his words carefully.

"_Ohhh_, so have you figured it out?" I teased, feeling playful. One of Reid's brows rose up in a silent question, a confused crinkle appearing in between his eyes.

"F-figured what out?" Reid asked, looking to Gideon for some direction. Gideon smiled, shook his head and turned his attention back to his 'healthy' breakfast.

"What women want most in the world?" I asked, smiling widely.

Whenever someone says that they've read Chaucer; they really mean that they've read The Canterbury Tales. In one tale of the book; a handsome knight rapes a woman. He's sentenced to die, but the Queen and ladies of the court beg for a chance for him to redeem himself. To redeem himself, the Queen gave the knight a challenge: he has one year to search the world to discover what woman want most. If he returns in a year with the correct answer, he could keep his head.

Reid's confused, and honestly worried stare, told me that he had no clue what I was talking about.

"The Canterbury Tales?" I prodded, grimacing. Not everyone that said they liked to read meant that they were a stickler about every part of a book. For the first time in a long time, I could feel a twinge of embarrassment prod at my chest.

Great, now smarty pants over here thought I was insane.

"Oh! Y-yeah yeah! The Wife of Bath's Tale. You read Chaucer?" Reid said, sounding relieved.

"I've only read Canterbury Tales." I admitted, sighing internally. Maybe he didn't suspect me of being as crazy as I really am!

Aaron, Elle, JJ, and Morgan came down to the lobby at random intervals. The table was soon filled with friendly chatter, even though all of us were practically sleep on our feet. We wrapped up our second breakfast of the day and drove to the airstrip where the jet was waiting for us.

Slumping into the couch beside Aaron, I folded my legs underneath me. "Thanks for calling me in on this case, Aar. It was nice working with you."

"You're not half bad yourself, Bailey." Aaron said, buckling his seat belt. "If we ever have another case, I won't hesitate to steal you from your unit. I'm sure your supervisor wouldn't mind."

"Stella would love to have a little break from me." I couldn't help but laugh. My unit's supervisor, Stella LeBeau, was a friendly, live-wire of a woman. She was always working and had a determined spirit that pulled our unit through a lot of hard cases.

The rest of the flight was thankfully smooth and uneventful. Most of us slipped in and out of sleep, making the short flight go by quickly. We were all drowsy and ready for a longer rest by the time the plane landed in D.C. in the late afternoon. Tossing my backpack and duffle over my shoulders, the group moved sluggishly out to the parking lot, where everyone began giving sleepy, half-assed goodbyes to one another.

"We'll see you around, right Bailey?" JJ asked pleasantly, holding her car keys in her hands.

"I'm only a few floors away." I chuckled, pulling my own keys out of my backpack. I waved goodbye to my new BAU friends and slunk over to my Jeep.

I can't believe I was almost run _over_ by a Jeep. At least it wasn't the same model; I'd be scared of my own damn car.

The drive home was quick, but it seemed to take forever due to the heaviness of my eyelids. As soon as I made it home, I locked the door behind me, turned on my TV, and fell asleep on my couch.

* * *

**_Two Weeks Later _**

I stretched, pulling a ziplock bag of tootsie rolls out of one of my desk drawers. Agent Mikaela Cook, one of my teammates, snickered at me as I began making paper airplanes with the wrappers and started flying them towards our other teammate, Agent George Shaw.

Mikaela and I were kindred spirits. We both came to the DVU for the same reason: to help and protect people. We were both generally laid-back, but weren't too lazy. We also had a bit of temper problems, which made it easier for us to understand each other. It also meant that on the rare occasions that Mikaela and I fought; we fought like cats and dogs. George was a nice guy. He tries a little too hard and wants to prove himself so badly, since he's the newest on the team. Sometimes his trying to hard gets him into trouble. After all, the path to hell is paved with good intentions.

The one thing that confused me was their looks.

Did the FBI purposely hire ridiculously _beautiful_ people?

Mikaela was gorgeous, tall, tan, and brunette. Her doe brown eyes were always brushed with a light dusting of makeup and her skinny form was always clothed in the latest trendy fashions. George, like Mikaela, was pretty good to look at. He was tall, muscular and blonde. His green eyes always held the spark of desire: the desire to be a good agent, to be a good teammate, to prove that he was good enough for the DVU.

"Bailey." Our tech specialist, Ollie, said as he limped into the bullpen. Ollie was at one time incredibly handsome. In my opinion, he still was, but he wasn't perceived as '_handsome' _by societal norms_._ Ollie's once pristine dark skin was scarred and puckered with puncture wounds. His right leg had been broken in so many places and filled with so many bullets that he limped whenever he walked. Ollie's left eye was cloudy with blindness, the once bright honey amber color was now a milky blue.

We were all just happy to still have him with us and he was happy to be in the DVU with us.

"Ollie." I giggled back, earning an eye roll from the constantly serious tech specialist.

"Stop making a mess. Someone has to clean that up, Brat." Ollie huffed, raking his hand through his amber colored hair and beard. "Someone from a few floors up came down to see you this morning. Told her I'd send you up once you got out of debriefing with Stella. Her name was JR or JK something."

"I've been out of debriefing for two hours." I said, glaring at Ollie. Ollie shrugged, a small shy smile coming across his scarred face.

"Do you know how long it takes me to limp over here?" Ollie said, waving me off playfully.

"Whatever you say, Ol." I chuckled, pushing away from my desk and jogging over to the elevator. I rode the elevator a few floors up to the BAU, excited to visit with Aaron's team. The BAU floor was a little more crowded than the DVU's floor. The desks were closer together and the activity on the floor was fast paced. I walked down into the bullpen, where I spotted Morgan and Reid. I whistled loudly, waving at Morgan who lifted up his head first.

"Well, well, _well_. Look who it is! Little Miss Woods." Morgan chuckled, pushing his chair away from his desk. Reid smiled at me, nodding his head and holding his cup of coffee to his lips. I couldn't help but notice that the desk beside his was empty.

"Nice to see you guys, too. My tech guy told me that JJ came down earlier asking for me. D'you know if she's around?" I asked, pulling up a spare chair from the unoccupied desk. JJ must have seen me from her office, because she came jogging down into the bullpen with a smile on her pretty face.

Once again, why does the FBI hire such beautiful people?

"Hey, Bailey. I was wondering if you wanted to go get lunch?" JJ asked, her purse slung over her shoulder. I nodded, happy that I had grabbed my wristlet wallet before getting in the elevator. We were both relatively silent as we left the FBI building. We walked down the crowded street and found ourselves in a small café a little ways down the street. I could tell that this wasn't just a friendly outing based on the dark circles under JJ's eyes and the way she was fidgeting.

"What's up, JJ?" I asked, seeing the blonde cringe. Her ocean colored eyes focused on the clock on the wall for a moment. JJ took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"You've had a fellow agent…get _hurt_, right? Ollie? The man I talked to this morning." JJ asked in a soft whisper, as if it was some large secret.

Ollie was at one time a normal agent like Mikaela, George, and I. We were going after a drug gang in Texas, he went off by himself, and was cornered by some gang members. He was beaten and tortured so badly that he couldn't be an active field agent any more. Luckily, we found a loop hole to keep Ollie with us. Ollie was a wizard on everything technological. He took a few months of FBI training and then he was back with the DVU as our tech support.

"Yeah, he was beaten pretty badly, but he's still alive and kicking. Kicking with one good leg at least." I joked half-heartedly. I handled everything with humor, but sometimes it was hard to make light of every situation.

"How long did it take Ollie to bounce back? Does he…act strangely?" JJ asked, leaning forwards.

"Ollie has always been a mean, tough skinned guy. He went through all the psychological hoops. He's doing well now, but we all had a rough time for a while. He would lash out, but it was because he was angry about what happened to him. It took him a few months to start acting like himself again." I said, remembering how angry Ollie was back then.

JJ was silent for a while, her concentration on the half eaten sandwich that she had ordered. She picked at the crusts, spreading the crumbs around her plate. JJ's shoulders were slumped, hunched over her lunch like she was about to fall asleep in her seat.

"Agent Greenaway, Elle, she's had some…trauma." JJ said after a few moments, her eyes watering. "She's gone…left the BAU."

"Left? As in _quit_ left?" I asked stupidly. "Is that…unlike her?"

JJ's crumpled, sorrowful face smoothed out with a small smile. She chuckled softly, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes to dry her oncoming tears.

"I'm sorry I'm unloading all this on you. I just…I need to talk to someone who doesn't already know." JJ said honestly, her eyes downcast. I smiled, reaching across the table to pat her hand softly.

"I'm all ears, Babe."

* * *

**_Four Days Later _**

**_Spencer _**

I noticed that Agent Woods was coming up to the BAU floor every day for lunch the past few days. The blonde DVU agent would scamper into the BAU, always wearing an outfit of different shades of blue and green. Sometime her hair was braided; sometimes it was twisted into a tight bun. Some days Agent Woods would bring food up to JJ's office, and other times JJ would have food there for them.

"I'm getting a little jealous of those two having little gal pal lunches." Garcia sighed, having come out of her computer grotto. From the bullpen, I could see JJ and Agent Woods in JJ's office, laughing and eating what looked like pizza.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head at Garcia. "Baby Girl, don't get too jealous on me now. You've always got me."

I watched as Agent Woods suddenly jerked in her seat. She pulled out her cellphone, a battered Iphone in a Hulk casing, and look at the glowing screen. Woods said something to JJ before quickly leaving her office. The blonde ran to the stairs, her long blonde braid whipping behind her.

"Where you off to, beautiful?" Morgan called, laughing as Woods quickly waved a hand towards him before she began to sprint down the stairs. JJ stuck her head out of her office, obviously having heard Morgan's cat call.

"She got called on a case. Unsub is considered armed and dangerous." JJ said softly, looking worriedly at the doors to the stairs.

"Is, _uh_, is she a good shot?" I asked, concerned by JJ's worry.

"She's a good shot. She and I have become pretty close in the last few days. It's nice having friends that you don't solve murders with, no offence." JJ said bluntly, shrugging with a bright smile.

The rest of the day went along slowly. JJ was picking through stacks of files for our next case, which left us with nothing to do but work on paperwork, scan the internet, and drool.

I couldn't help but keep glancing over at Elle's empty desk. I noticed Morgan looking over at the empty desk too. I kept expecting to look up and see Elle there; her dark hair frazzled and holding a large caramel latte while going through paperwork at around a page every eight minutes and five seconds.

The sun was starting to slowly set when I stood up to stretch my legs. I decided that my cup of coffee had gone cold a while ago, so I should maybe grab myself another cup of brain juice. I felt pins-and-needles in my legs as I practically Frankenstein's monster walked towards the small lounge where the coffee maker was. I poured my coffee and put enough sugar into the dark liquid before slowly making my way back to my desk.

Just when I turned towards the bullpen, I heard the elevator chime behind me. I heard the tapping of soles on marble just before someone slammed into my back. I jolted, dropping my coffee in surprise, but thankfully I didn't fall down.

"I am so so sorry!" Woods gasped, pulling away from my back. The top of her head only came up to my shoulder blades. Before now, I had never taken note of our height difference. When Agent Woods fully stepped away from my back, I couldn't help but notice that I was now feeling cold.

Probably because my coffee was gone. Lost forever to this world.

"Doctor Spencer, I really didn't mean to bulldoze you over!" Woods said, looking absolutely horrified. That was a surprise. When people usually smacked into me they brushed it off and continued on their way. People rarely ever apologized to me.

"I-I-It's fine, Agent Woods." I stuttered, smiling bashfully as a custodian came shuffling down the call, an irritated look in her eyes. Bailey looked tired, the ends of her long sleeved shirt slightly dirtied. She must have just returned from her case.

"_Bailey_. Please, we've seen pictures of dead bodies together. You can call me by my first name. We've _reached_ that point." Agent Woods, _Bailey_, said softly, kneeling down and beginning to gingerly pick up shards of the coffee mug.

The custodian looked surprised and tried to get Bailey away from the mess. Bailey insisted that she help, since in her own words: "I caused the mess, I can help clean it up."

Not wanting to stand there and feel like a bigger idiot than I was; I knelt down and began to help clean up the mess as well. Both Bailey and the custodian tried to push me away, but I parroted Bailey's reasoning for helping; earning an annoyed eye roll from the custodian and a large smile from Bailey.


	6. Chapter 6: Coffee

I'm making this story a slow build! I can't really get into those stories where the OC and the character of choice instantly fall in love at first sight!

Oh, and Bailey is introduced just before the whole Tobias incident! Be warned!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_One Week Later _**

**_Spencer _**

The day after a case was always the hardest. After some cases, we would get two or three days off if the case was long and strenuous. Sometimes we would only get a day off. Sometimes we weren't given any time off. It was always hard returning to the BAU floor. Not because of the cases _(not exactly anyways), _but because of the exhaustion.

After this last case, the serial bomber in Seattle, the higher ups had given us two days off. When Monday morning came, I was barely able to haul myself out of bed. I managed to pull on a pair of dark pants, a red shirt, and a dark sweater before taking my car to work.

When I made it to my desk, I immediately noticed that there was something different.

There was a small paper coffee cup on my desk. On one side in marker was scribbled _'Doctor Spencer'_ and the plastic tab was covering the spout to make sure the drink stayed hot.

"Morgan, whose coffee is this?" I asked, pulling my messenger bag off my shoulder and slinging it across the back of my chair. Morgan, who was checking his emails, spun around on his swivel chair and smiled.

"Little Miss Woods got it for you. See, your name's on it and everything." Morgan chuckled, turning back in his chair. Cautiously, I pulled the tab out of the spout and breathed in the scent. It smelled like regular coffee.

"Bailey isn't going to poison you, Pretty Boy." Morgan groaned, shaking his head. I took a small sip, feeling my blood jolt awake at the taste of dark roast coffee. There was a little less sugar than I would have liked, and she had put cream in it, which I don't normally take, but it was good coffee.

It took a real twisted psychopath to mess up coffee.

* * *

**_The Next Day _**

**_Spencer _**

Another coffee was at my desk.

"Morgan?" I questioned, nodding to the to-go coffee cup with the name '_Doctor Spencer'_ scribbled on it.

"Little Miss Woods again." Morgan said, chewing on the end of a pen. "Said something about making you spill your coffee a while ago."

I sat down at my desk, slowly uncorking the plastic tab and taking a tentative sip. It wasn't a coffee this time; it was a hazelnut frappuccino.

Not something I would normally order, but it was good.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

I sat nervously at JJ's desk, feeling her cat like smile trained on me. Was it smart of me to bring Doctor Spencer coffee? Sure. Was it nice of me? Yeah.

Did I think Doctor Spencer was good looking and accidentally let it slip to JJ?

Bet your sweet ass I did.

Since I helped out on that case a month ago, JJ and I had gotten pretty close. We had lunch together almost every day and we had even spent a few nights out on the town together.

"The way to that boy's heart is through caffeine and sugar in his veins." JJ said knowingly, sitting contently at her desk with a carton of chicken lo mein. I wriggled nervously in the seat beside her, my feet kicked up onto the edge of her desk.

It didn't feel like such a bold move; bringing Doctor Spencer coffee. It's not like I went out of my way to get him coffee. I happened to go to the café shop every morning to pick up my small Irish tea, non-alcoholic of course.

Some days, I wish I had just that little shot of alcohol.

"What's your plan of attack?" JJ asked suddenly, smiling widely. I sputtered, almost spitting my orange soda down the front of my blue t-shirt. I coughed for a moment, making JJ's smile widen on her face.

"Jay! I just want to get to know him better! Not attack him and break his leg!" I said, feeling very unlike myself.

While I wasn't exactly frivolous with relationships, I was usually very honest and straight forwards with whomever I was interested in. It wasn't strange for me to go up to someone and say something along the lines of: "_Hey, I like you. Wanna get a drink?" _

Being straight forward always worked for me. No tricks, no mind games, no '_wait three days to call me_' bullshit. So doing something as sly and slightly over-personal as getting Doctor Spencer coffee was a little bit out of my comfort zone.

"Trust me. He's getting curious." JJ said, rolling her eyes as I shakily stood from my seat and grabbed my phone. "By the way; Spence likes a lot of sugar and usually never gets cream in his coffee. Try sweet coffee."

"Like flavored coffees? I got him a hazelnut frappy-thingy today." I said, having no clue what the hell it was that I got Doctor Spencer.

"A frappy-thingy!" JJ chuckled deeply, her head thrown back against the padding of her desk chair. I knew that JJ wasn't laughing at me; just my choice of words. I smiled, grabbing my half eaten carton of beef lo mein and snuck back down to my DVU floor, praying that Doctor Spencer wouldn't see me.

* * *

**_Three Days Later _**

**_Spencer _**

"Again?" I whispered, feeling surprised, confused, and a strange tightness in my chest.

Again, at my desk, was a to-go coffee cup with _'Doctor Spencer'_ scribbled on the side. This makes five days where there was a glorious caffeinated gift from God on my desk when I came into work. The drink was always caffeinated, but it was always different. Different types of coffees or sometimes fancier drinks like frappuccinos or lattes.

"Again." I whispered to myself, sitting down. "She brought me coffee again?"

I took a sip, long done with taking a cautious sniff and a tentative sip of the mystery morning drinks. Why did Bailey always leave them on my desk? Why didn't she ever talk to me? I'd see her in JJ's office, but I never saw her sneaking in or out of the BAU floor.

"She's putting the moves on you, Pretty Boy!" Morgan said, typing away at his desk.

"The moves?" I asked, feeling the coldness of the drink wash over me instead of the normal warmth. Iced coffee? It was so sweet and the chilliness woke me up instantly.

"Bailey's getting you coffee because she knocked yours out of your hands, remember?" Morgan said slowly, giving me that look that implied that I was the stupidest agent he'd ever met.

"Do you think she's trying to repay me? For crappy work coffee?" I muttered, taking a long sip of the sweet iced coffee.

Sweet, sweet elixir of life.

"It's not about her paying you back for that one cup. Bailey's doing this because she wants you to ask her for something." Morgan said, turning back to his computer.

"But I've never asked her for coffee." I said, feeling clueless.

"Bailey wants you to ask her for something other than caffeine." Morgan said slyly, wagging his eyebrows at me.

"…Like what?"

"Dear God. Help _me_. Help _me_ to help _him_." Morgan mumbled, slumping down and pressing his forehead into his keyboard.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

'_We've got a new agent coming in. Could you come up a little earlier? I think she'd like to meet a few people._' JJ's text chirped on my phone while I was in the shower. I texted back a positive response, something generic my sleep addled mind conjured up about being excited to make a new BAU friend.

I pulled on a pair of thick black leggings and a long blue tunic for work. I picked up my small Irish coffee and a vanilla latte for Doctor Reid at my regular shop before getting on the cramped subway for the haul to work.

I stood at the open elevator of the BAU floor before I knew it. For the first time since I'd begun bringing him coffee, Reid was at his desk, reading a packet of stapled papers. Shaking off the strange feeling of anxiety, I slowly walked forwards until I was standing beside the seated Doctor Spencer.

"Here." I said softly, placing the to-go cup down on Reid's desk. Sharp and intelligent hazel eyes gazed up at me. Doctor Spencer pursed his lips before sitting up straight.

"T-thank you. Uhm, If-If I may –_ahem_- ask. Why are you bringing me…_uhh_..coffee?" Reid asked slowly, clearing his throat awkwardly a few times. "Not that I d-don't appreciate it. I-I do!"

I hummed nervously, trying to find the exact words. "I, _hmmm_, thought it was nice."

"Nice, yes." Reid said, his eyes slightly narrowing. "But why? D-do you, _uhhh_, need me t-to do something f-for –_ahem_- you?"

"No! I just…was hoping I could get to know you better. If that's alright with you." I said, trying to recall my usual bluntness. Why was he any different than a guy I'd meet at a bar? Why couldn't I go up to Reid with confidence like I'd do to any other man I thought was interesting? I rarely ever found myself embarrassed while flirting or in this instance, attempting to flirt.

Shamelessly and atrociously attempting to flirt.

"G-get to, _ah_, k-know me?" Reid swallowed thickly, his hazel eyes darting around the room nervously.

"You know, get to know each other. Hanging out?" I said, feeling as pathetic as possible. Reid cocked his head to the side, reminding me of a confused puppy that heard an interesting new sound.

"Me?" Reid asked, sounding confused.

"You know, I really meant to give all those coffees to the _other_ Doctor Spencer I know." I joked, hoping that a short laugh would push away my nervousness. Reid laughed softly, his cheeks dimpling in an adorable way. His laugh was so warm and husky, but had this quirky undertone that was just so addicting.

I had to make him laugh more.


	7. Chapter 7: Indian Food for My Dame

If anyone's interested, I've been making little collages for this story on Polyvore! They're nothing crazy, but they're just a little something for those of you, like me, are more visual people. Just search Kate-mchugh-gorman. If you can't find it; I'll put a link of it on my profile!

And how do you guys like the chapters that have multiple points of view? I've had people say that they'd rather have a long chapter in a single person's point of view than a long chapter chopped up into multiple points of view. Personally, I feel like the multiple points of view fits more with the Criminal Minds style; since the team isn't all together at the same time and each of their experiences is what really rounds out each case!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Bailey_**

I sat nervously in Aaron's office, watching him glower down at a packet of paperwork. Apparently, Aaron hadn't signed off on the new agent. I felt horrible for the new agent, who I had met for a mere moment before Aaron whisked me away to his office. The new agent, Agent Emily Prentiss, was a woman that looked like she was made of steel. Her dark hair and black as night eyes were sleek and refined. Agent Prentiss was dressed to impress and had the most killer high heels.

Once more, why does the FBI hire such great looking people?

"Aaron, aren't you being a little harsh?" I asked. I'd heard from JJ that Aaron had pretty much brushed the new agent off instantly, even though she proved to be an asset on the latest case.

"No. This is my team, Bails." Aaron said stiffly. "I did not approve of this new agent being slipped in under my nose."

"Relax, Aar. It's not like she herself forged your signature or anything." I tried to cool Aaron down. "JJ said that Agent Prentiss helped a lot."

Aaron shrugged, slumping down in his chair. I offered to get him a coffee or something, but he brushed me off with a thankful smile. I shuffled out of his office, feeling like a not so great friend.

"H-hey, Bailey!" Reid called to me from his desk, waving. I slowly made my way over, making sure that I didn't bump into anyone.

"Hey, Doctor Spencer." I smiled, nodding to Morgan and the new BAU agent, who was sitting at a bland looking desk space.

"I was just, _uhm_, wondering if y-you'd like to –_ahem_- go out for food…after…work." Reid chose the last of his words carefully, cringing. I felt my entire face brighten up immediately. Did I hear him right? Did he ask to really hang out?

"Sure!" I said, far too eagerly. Reid flushed a little, a blush beginning to crawl up his neck.

"I'll meet y-you on your floor?" Reid asked, fiddling with his cup of to-go caramel latte. I nodded, again too eagerly, and practically raced to the elevator in my happiness.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

The DVU floor was a little less chaotic than the BAU floor. Agent's desks were spread wider apart in the bullpen, but there was the same feeling of a beehive-like ecosystem. Agents buzzed around, busy doing their work to appease their queen, DVU Unit Chief Stella LeBeau.

I felt the stares as soon as I stepped off the elevator. Most agents were leaving at this time and I felt the suspicious glances that were being sent my way. I tried to smile and nod nonchalantly at the DVU agents as I made my way to their bullpen.

I probably looked like an unsub.

I immediately picked Bailey's desk out of all the others. The usual gray-beige workspace was decorated in greens and blues. Stickers covered the desk drawers and super hero plushies were resting in a neat pile in a corner of the desk. Glass containers littered the desktop, each filled with different odds and ends: pens, markers, marbles, hair-ties, candies, loose change…

"Hello." A woman at the desk to the left of Bailey's said brightly, smiling up at me.

"Hey." I said, feeling like an intruder. "I'm Spencer R-Reid. I work upstairs with the BAU-"

The black haired woman chuckled, her face lighting up with recognition. "_Ohh_! You're Doctor Spencer!"

She's talked about me.

Bailey's talked about me to her coworkers.

"I'm Agent Mikaela Cook, Bailey and I have known each other since the academy."

Correction, Bailey's talked about me to a _close_ friend.

"Take a seat at her desk, Love. She's in our Unit Chief's office turning in some paperwork." Agent Cook said, turning her attention back to her work. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I sat down in Bailey's swivel chair. The seat was raised very high up, so high that my legs crunched up and hit the underneath of the desk.

With Agent Cook's attention back on her work, I went back to snooping.

Brightly colored manila folders that were covered in Bailey's writing were meticulously organized in blue file trays. Cork boards were placed almost reverently against the small separators between the desks; each filled with different pictures and paper mementoes. Feeling a little adventurous, I pulled open the drawers of the grey desk. One drawer was filled with candles and body products; another was filled with art and office supplies, and another with first aid supplies, spare clothes, and snack foods.

Bailey was organized and enjoyed being surrounded by brightly colored things. The pictures on her corkboards were of her smiling with friends and family. A brunette woman, a larger brunette man, a black haired woman, and a blonde woman reappeared in many of the pictures. There were a few notes and cards stuck to the cork boards; some from family, some from teachers, and some from friends.

The contents of Bailey's desk drawers were like a bug-out-bag. She was prepared for the worst. The food, the clothes, the first aid. I also noticed a navy blue back pack tucked snuggly underneath her desk. The outer coverings of her desk; the glittery colors and happy pictures were hiding a woman that had seen the horrible things that life can throw at people, and that she knew how to handle those horrible situations.

"Snoopy, _snoopy_, Doctor Spencer." Bailey admonished, stepping into the bullpen. I had my head practically shoved in her bottom desk drawer, like a complete stalker. I jerked up, smacking my nose on the edge of the desk.

"Damn!" I swore, my hand coming up to nurse my nose. Bailey frowned, sitting down on the edge of her desk, and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" She frowned, but the sparkle in her eye told me she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"To quote Hamlet, act III, scene iii, line 88: No." I smirked, lightly twitching my nose to make sure I didn't break it. That sounds like something I would do; break my nose while nosing through a pretty woman's desk.

_Pretty woman_?

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" Bailey laughed, her legs swinging back and forth.

"M-most of the time, yes." I shrugged, hoping that I wasn't coming off as too arrogant. I was trying to pull off confidant. Women liked a confident man, right? It was often thought that people who had "above average intelligence" came off as arrogant when taking about their intellect. Did she think that? Was I making an idiot out of my-

"Then what color is my underwear?" Bailey asked suddenly, her sky blue eyes piercing my own.

I couldn't tell what I choked on: my tongue, my own saliva, or the air itself.

"I _uhhh_…that's n-not –_ahem_- a fair question. I-I don't have –_ahem_- an answer for that." I gagged, completely in shock. Did women ask those questions? I thought I was supposed to stay away from conversations about undergarments.

That's what Gideon told me anyways.

"A question that you'd know the answer to…What color is Morgan's underwear?" Bailey questioned, cocking her head to the side. She burst out laughing, almost sliding off her desk. I couldn't help but flush in embarrassment, but the kind smile that she sent my way calmed me.

As long as she's not _seriously_ making fun of me, I could handle a little bit of teasing.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

Reid said that he wanted to introduce me to one of his more frequented restaurants, an Indian place called _Sitar_. It was a cozy, decorated with warm red and browns and soft lighting. The air smelled warm and sweet, and the inside of the place looked clean and well-loved.

"You're nervous about new places?" Reid stated, smiling down at me. "You're looking around, surveying your surroundings. Like something's about to pop out and eat you."

"I'm just cautious of new restaurants." I admitted, remembering all the times I had gotten food poisoning at sketchy restaurants. Reid laughed; a deep, quirky rumble in his chest that made me smile.

"I come here about once every few weeks. It's safe." Reid assured me, leading me to a small two person table. A skinny high school girl came over to the table, quickly giving us menus and taking our drink orders. I skimmed the menu for a moment, seeing all sorts of dishes that I had never heard of.

"What do you usually get?" I prodded, hoping that Reid would give a detailed description of at least one of these dishes.

"I usually get the tandoori chicken. What kinds of foods do you usually eat?" Reid asked, placing down his menu.

"Not spicy foods. I'll try anything new, but I can't handle too spicy hot." I admitted, trying to decipher the menu.

"You might like the chicken pakora, that's a chicken fritter that isn't very spicy." Reid said, his soft smile dimpling his cheeks. I agreed, placing my own menu down. The waitress returned a few minutes later with our drinks and took our dinner orders.

"So, Reid," I started, attempting to strike up a conversation. Where should I start? Favorite TV shows? Something generic and not too personal. "What's your favorite TV show?"

"We're eating Indian food together. You can call me by my first name; we've reached that point." Reid, _Spencer_, said parroting my exact words from a few days ago. "I enjoy anything fantasy, sci-fi, or a psychological thriller is interesting, too. What do you watch?"

We spent the next few hours getting to know each other better. Spencer was what my cousin Michelle would call an '_Uber-Geek'_. Star Wars, Star Trek, fantasy, history, and technology.

And _gaming_-Spencer _liked_ gaming!

I could practically hear the bells of friendship!

Doctor Spencer and I left the restaurant minutes before it was supposed to close. We walked onto the subway together, our arms pressed against each other's due to the cold air and the dark night. The subway wasn't very crowded, but there were enough people to make the trip feel safe. Spencer and I sat close to each other, swaying along with the bumpy ride like professional subway riders.

"This is my stop." I said, tightening my grip on my purse straps on my shoulder. Spencer stood up, adjusting his messenger bag. "Yours, too?"

"Nope." Spencer said blandly, offering me his arm. Cautiously, I weaved my arm though his, stepping a bit closer to him to fend off the slight chill in the air.

"Then get back on!" I said, nodding back towards the subway, which had still not closed its doors and taken off. Spencer smiled shyly and shrugged, walking us towards the turn tables that led to the exit stairs.

"My place was three stops ago." Spencer said softly, walking up the stairs. I practically had to jog to keep up with his wide pace. I looked up at him in shock, but he refused to meet my gaze.

"Why didn't you get off?" I asked, surprised. It was chilly out and Spencer and I both had to be at work tomorrow at 8:30 in the morning. He could have been home by now if he had just gotten off on his stop.

"It's not chivalrous to leave a lady." Spencer said softly, stopping once we rose to the street. The air was chillier than it had been when we got on the subway. I chuckled, stepping an inch closer to Spencer's warmth and tightened my grip on his arm.

"What are you, a knight?" I teased, tugging Spencer in the direction of my house on 4th Street. The walk was only three blocks and shouldn't take a long time. I felt Spencer's grip on my arm tighten a little bit as we continued to walk; but the grip especially tightened whenever we walked past dark alleyways.

It was a good first date, even though neither of us would call that night a _date_.

* * *

**_Five Days Later _**

I found myself taking the subway to work instead of my car. It saved on gas and I got to spend a little time with my Spencer before work. We had been riding together to and from work the past week and I had to admit our meetings were starting to become highlights of my days.

"Morning, Spencer." I smiled, seeing the hazel eyed genius step through the subway doors. I patted the plastic seat beside me, which I had saved for him. I offered Spencer a paper to-go coffee cup, which he accepted with a smile and a small blush.

"Good morning, Bay." Spencer said, sounding exhausted. I smiled at Spencer's nickname. He was the only one that called me Bay. People always called me Bail, Bails, or even the rare Lee.

Bay was nice, it was _different_, it was Spencer.

We sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Mostly because we were both too damn tired and too busy sucking down our caffeine. When our stop came, Spencer took my purse from me and offered me his arm.

"You're quiet. Have a hard case?" I asked, thankful that Spencer slowed his steps so I wouldn't have to jog to keep up with him.

"Just a, _uhh_, lack of caffeine." Spencer joked, opening the door of the FBI building for me. I smiled bashfully, walking through the door and walking side by side with Spencer towards the elevator.

"I'll see you later?" I asked when the doors opened on the DVU floor, smiling softly at Spencer who handed me my purse.

"I'll come to you, My Lady." Spencer said, giving a little mocking bow. I stopped just before leaving the elevator and put my hand on the door, stopping it from automatically closing.

"How come you get to be a knight and I'm only a lady?" I pouted jokingly, leaning against the metal. Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, his hazel eyes lighting up playfully.

"W-what's so wrong with being a lady? Most ladies were, -_ahem_-, very rich, powerful, and had knights to defend them." Spencer said, stuffing his hands into his maroon corduroy pants and leaning his shoulder against the wall of the elevator.

I hummed, rolling my eyes. "I'm far from rich and powerful, but I do the defending myself."

"Alright, then." Spencer said, eyes alight with mischief. I stepped away from the door, feeling like I had won our playful argument.

"If not a lady, you shall be My Dame!" Spencer got in the last word, just as the sliding doors shut. I huffed, shaking my head and going over to my desk. I booted up my computer and quickly googled '_Dame'_.

_'A Dame: the title given to a woman equivalent to the rank of knight._'

Now that's much better!

The decrease in his stuttering and throat clearing was kinda nice, too.


	8. Chapter 8: Scary Movies

I have a link to my Polyvore on my profile if you want to check out a little insight on Bailey's house ;) I even have a few other images on there for this story and some of my others!

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Read and Review!

* * *

**_Bailey_**

Another case, another hotel room.

My team and I were working a case in California; where gang members were cooking meth and distributing it through the entirety of the south-western United States. We had to find the head of the operation and slice it off. A new head would always grow, but each take down of a king pin made the entire monster weaker.

The hotel TV buzzed softly in the background as I sat on the corner of the bathtub, running a razor over my legs. I could hear my cell phone chiming loudly from its spot on my bed. The ringing was not the loud air-raid siren ringtone I had set for all my teammates, so I knew it wasn't an urgent call. I let it ring; knowing that if I stopped shaving now I'd forget where I left off and tomorrow I'd be walking around with half a shaven leg.

I spent the next half an hour in the shower, allowing myself one rare luxury. It was around eleven at night when I finally had dried myself and shuffled towards my borrowed bed. Sliding the screen of my phone, it displayed one missed call and one unheard voicemail.

_Missed Call: Doctor Spencer: 10: 24 pm. _

_Voicemail: Doctor Spencer 10:26 pm. _

Tapping in my voicemail password and flicking the speaker button, I threw myself into bed, too tired to get under the sheets. The voicemail recording crackled for a moment before I heard Spencer clear his throat.

"H-hello, Bailey. It's uhh…-_ahem_- It's Spencer Reid. I know I just saw you last week and talked t-to you just this morning, but, _uhhh_…I was _umm_, I was wondering if I could see you when we both get back?" Spencer stuttered, a habit which had been steadily decreasing when he was around me. Apparently, the stuttering came back whenever he was on the phone.

I smiled, rolling over and kept listening to Spencer ramble. "I-I mean, we see each other, _uhhh_, every day. I mean, -_ahem_-, I want to see you…not going into work and n-not leaving work. So, _uhh_, call me back. Have a g-good night."

The voicemail ended with a swift click. I felt excitement flare up in my chest and I had to fight the urge to jump up and down on my bed. I sighed, a wide grin sliding across my face.

A few minutes later, someone started monstrously knocking at my hotel door. Glad that I was wearing an unflattering pair of baggy sweatpants; I answered the knocking to find my teammates standing outside my door, looking excited.

"Ollie found our guy!" Mikaela cheered, shoving me back into my room. "Get dressed, we're going after him!"

* * *

**_Four Hours Later…_**

"GO! BAILEY _GO_!" George shouted, hiding behind our bullet riddled SUV.

I hope we got the full coverage with our rental insurance package.

I ducked and ran to the back of the SUV for cover. My vision tunneled as I set my target on the gang member aiming at George and me with a shotgun. I raised my Glock 42 and took two shots. One bullet ricocheted off the cement wall of a building, but the other blasted into the gang leader's shoulder.

"David Sager, you are under arrest!" A police officer said once he and his brothers in blue swarmed the wounded man. I heard the wail of an ambulance and I felt my entire body sag in exhaustion. I wiped my sweaty cheek with the back of my palm, cringing as my hand came away bloody.

"Stray cut?" George asked, shaking shards of broken windshield glass out of his hair and shirt. I shrugged, not remembering taking a hit to the cheek. George and I were quickly jumped by medics, who began patching us both up.

"Agent Woods!" My Unit Captain, Stella, said in a mockingly stern way. Stella was like Mikaela and I; she handed stressful situations with humor. "Red is defiantly your blush color."

The medic who was taping my cheek shut snorted in disbelief, his eyes wide.

"Thanks, Stell. I love being dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night and getting cut." I joked, seeing the medic clean away residue from my cheek gently.

"Shot. This is a bullet graze." The medic said with finality.

"Well I love dragging you out of bed and getting the call that you got _shot_." Stella shot back, giving me a dirty look. Stella loved all of her agents, we were all family, and Stella LeBeau was our Mama Bear. "I want you patched and wheels up in forty!"

George, Stella, Mikaela, and I were all packed up and on a jet that the FBI let us use for cases before the sun rose. It wasn't as flashy as the BAU jet, but it got the job done.

I still hated flying though.

"Get some rest." Stella ordered as soon as the team set foot on the jet. I nodded, feeling exhausted. We had the shoot out around three in the morning, so we would be flying with the rising sun when we began our trek back home.

Just when I had gotten comfortable on the padded bench, I realized that I never called Spencer back.

Tomorrow. I'll call him tomorrow.

* * *

"Hey Spencer, its Bailey." I spoke into my phone, somewhat disappointed that I had only gotten Spencer's voicemail. "I just wanted to call and tell you that I'd like to hang out. You feeling food or a movie? Hell, if you want, we can do take out and have a movie night at my place."

God, _please_ help me stop rambling.

"Anyway, we've finished the case in Cali. We got back about twenty minutes ago. I'm bone tired, so I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll talk to you later, Spence. Good luck on your case. Make me proud!" I rambled into the phone.

Make me proud?! What the hell is that?

Sometimes, my stupidity was _physically_ painful.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

Thankfully, our newest case was close enough to home that the team could use the BAU as a base of operations. Then again, I was never thankful when a murderer was close to home.

Close to me, to JJ, to Bailey, to Hotch, to Garcia, to Morgan. Hell, even too close to my new teammate, Emily.

Was it a little twisted that I was relieved when Bailey told me she was flying out West on a case? A dangerous case filled with drug cartels, assassins, and gang members. At least she was away from this serial rapist-murderer.

"Spence, please take a break." JJ pleaded with me, placing her hand on my shoulder. When did she get there? I didn't even hear her coming.

"I'm fine, JJ." I said, holding up a copy of our case file. "Just reading the newest information."

"Take a break, Spence. Go get some coffee or some sleep. _Preferably sleep_! I don't care if you go home to sleep, sleep on my couch, or go to Bailey's house." JJ said, offering the demonic couch she had in her office. That piece of furniture could be used by the FBI for interrogation it was so uncomfortable.

"Bailey? She's still on a case." I muttered, flipping to the next page.

"Haven't you checked your phone?" JJ asked, opening up her own phone. "She texted me. Her flight landed in Richmond around ten and her teammates dropped her off at her house around eleven. The DVU team has three days off."

"Was it that rough of a case?" I asked, feeling worry start to gnaw at my mind. What had happened? The BAU only got three or more days off when the case was very strenuous.

"It was mostly a reward. The DVU had been chasing that unsub for a few months. Bailey did get injured though. A graze to the cheek." JJ said calmly, but there was a strange emotion in her eye, as if she was surprised that I didn't know Bailey was home.

"A graze? A graze with what?" I asked, pulling my battered cell phone out and checking for any missed calls. I found a voicemail from Bailey and listened to it, absorbing every word she said.

"She didn't say anything about getting hurt. You sure it was her that got hurt?" I asked, hoping that JJ had gotten the wrong information for once in her life.

JJ smiled softly. "She doesn't want you to worry. Bailey really likes you, Spence. When we have lunch, she's always happy to hear stories about you."

"S-stories?!" I gasped, quickly turning to JJ with a horrified look on my face. "What kind of stories?! Embarrassing ones?! JJ! _JJ, come back_!"

* * *

**_Bailey _**

The next time Spencer called, I was able to pick up the phone.

I had woken up from my nap just before rush hour. I decided that I needed to stock up on food before my lovely three day staycation at home. I lazily drove to the super market while creating a mental grocery list. I was already inside the store, riding my shopping cart down the cereal aisle when my phone rang.

"Hello." I answered, hopping off my cart.

"H-hey, Bailey." Doctor Spencer cleared his throat. "I, _ahh_, got the message that y-you're back home."

"Back and better than ever! What's up with you, Doctor Spencer?" I asked, nabbing a few boxes of sugar coated cereals and throwing them in my cart.

"Uhhh, nothing. Off work. I was w-wondering if you wanted t-to _uhhh_, hang out?" Spencer said, his voice rising to an uncomfortable squeak. I smiled, quickly rolling over to the snack aisle.

"Sure! My house? Movies?" I said, already giddily picking out junk food.

"S-sounds great. I'll meet you a-at your house? Say…seven?"

"Alright! I'll see you then, Doctor Spencer!" I chuckled, hanging up to continue my shopping excursion. I picked up a few more things before checking out. I passed the movie rental machine on my way out and eyed it for a moment.

I knew what kind of TV shows that Spencer liked, but I had no clue about what kind of movies he liked. Most of the movies I owned were horror, fantasy, comedy, and cartoon movies. Spencer seemed like the type to like high class movies. Like fancy foreign black-and-whites, or documentaries about serial killers. Feeling nervousness seep into me, I rushed over to the movie rental and grabbed four of the classiest movies they had.

Dear God, I'm going to make an idiot out of myself.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

I showed up on Bailey's doorstep a few minutes before seven. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bring anything with me, so I brought a few movies and a bag of pretzels just to be safe.

Everyone liked pretzels, rights?

Bailey opened her door with a massive smile on her face. She had on black sweatpants and a deep purple tank top. Her feet were bare and her hair was down; but I was too focused on the bandages that were on her cheek.

"JJ said you got hurt." I said, leaning forwards to get a better look at JJ's so called 'graze'. A three inch gash stretched across Bailey's pale cheek, forced shut with a few butterfly bandages. The area around the wound was pinkish and looked like it itched horribly.

"I almost took a bullet to the face." Bailey huffed, twitching her cheek.

"I've heard that if you don't think about them, wounds hurt less." I said, snorting as Bailey rolled her eyes and pouted.

"Sure, I'll just forget about the hole in my face. Get the hell in the house, Sweetheart." Bailey said playfully, stepping out of the doorway. I couldn't help but laugh, stepping shyly into the homey apartment. The front door opened to a large living room, which cut off to two hallways: one to a kitchen, and one to a hallway of what looked like bedrooms.

Most of the furniture was made of dark wood with creamy fabrics that went perfectly with the sand colored walls. What caught my attention was the large window seat in the middle of the living room, sandwiched between two overstuffed bookcases. Some of the shelves had knick-knacks, others had binders, and others had rows of books.

"Welcome home!" Bailey chirped, waving to one of the wicker oval shaped couch seated before a television. Rows of DVDs lined the shelves underneath the television in seemingly no order.

"You want something to drink?"

"Uhhh, sure. Whatever you're having." I said, crouching down to look at her DVDs. They were mostly horror, comedy, fantasy, and children's movies. The horror movies were incredibly gory; a lot of zombie and slasher flicks. A slight adrenaline junky? I smiled when I spied a throng of familiar movies and TV shows; Lord of the Rings, Hobbit, Star Trek seasons and movies.

A small stack of DVDs were placed on the top of the television stand. They didn't seem to fit in with the others. A few of them were foreign, some were silent movies, and others were documentaries. They had a rental sticker stamped on the bottom of each case.

Why had she rented these? They didn't seem like Bailey's preferences at all.

"Coke alright?" Bailey called from the kitchen. I heard her clanging around and the refrigerator shutting.

"Yeah, thanks." I called back, standing up from my crouch and going over to investigate her books. You could always tell a lot about a person by the books that they read.

The shelves were stuffed with horror books, joke books, and American poetry. Two whole shelves were dedicated solely to comic books and manga, none of them in order. The shelf that was the most used, based on the low accumulation of dust, is what interested me the most: Shakespeare, Stephen King, Shel Silverstein, Marvel Comics, and Mitch Albom

Again, she must love the adrenaline she gets from all the horror novels. She liked poetry; mostly short and dark. She enjoyed short stories that struck the heart. Less words that meant more. Bailey loved a hero; mostly heroes that came from nothing, heroes with quirky abilities and dark pasts: Captain America, Hulk, Deadpool, Spiderman, Hawkeye…

"Snooping again, Doctor Spencer?"

I jumped away from the bookcase, straightening with a cough. That's twice now that she's caught me nosing through her belongings. There was a large smile on her face, her head cocked to one side and holding two glasses filled with soda.

"Just, -_ahem_-, checking out your library." I shrugged, figuring there was no use in denying my snooping. Bailey laughed; a deep noise that bubbled from deep in her chest.

"I wouldn't call it a library." Bailey laughed, setting the two drinks on the dark living room table. "See anything of interest?"

_I do see something I'm very interested in… _

"Depends. You're a horror lover?" I asked, sitting down at the couch across from her. Bailey smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

"You'd think I'd get enough blood and gore at work." Bailey laughed, taking a sip of her coke. "What do you usually watch?"

"Fantasy." I muttered, my eyes catching the sight of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. "A lot of Sci-Fi."

"Do you watch the Sy-fy channel moves? They're so horrible that they're amazing!" Bailey laughed, a large smile spreading across her cheeks. She winced a bit, bringing her hand up to her wounded cheek.

"Yes! You think some of those movies would have been cut. Who would produce a movie about a CIA agent single handedly taking down a swarm of man-eating piranhas with nothing but a boot knife and his suddenly acquired knowledge of marine life?" I chuckled, leaning back into the couch cushions. "Did you know that when Teddy Roosevelt went to the Amazon in 1913, he and saw piranhas and described them as: 'the embodiment of evil ferocity'."

Oh God, the _rambling_. The ramblings have started. Before I know it the statistics are going to come spewing out.

"No shit?" Bailey asked, cocking her head to the side. "They just re-made Piranha. It was pretty sick. I think I might even have it somewhere around here."

"Horror is among the top three most popular movie genera." I said, taking the cup of coke from the table. "The most popular are about zombies, cannibals, and paranormal ghost or demon-like activity."

"I contribute to those mutant movies. Hills Have Eyes is, in my eyes, a wonderful piece of movie magic." Bailey hummed, kicking her feet up onto the couch.

"The 1977 version or the 2006 version?" I asked, vaguely remembering Morgan talking about movies that he liked to watch on Halloween to with his lady friend of the day_._

"2006 for sure!" Bailey cooed, smiling widely. "How about we crack it open? If you can handle it?"

I laughed, assuring her that I would be able to handle the fake gore. I'd seen too much gore in real life that most movie-gore didn't unsettle me. Bailey shuffled over to the TV and tucked the horror DVD into the player. The blonde swung off towards the kitchen, shouting about snacks. I smiled, kicking my legs up onto the couch to get comfortable for the movie. My phone in my pocket chirped, making me cringe.

_'Be prepared for tomorrow's case. Guantanamo Bay. We would be leaving as soon as possible, but we need clearance, which will be granted tomorrow morning. Wheels up at 8.'_

Hotch's texts were always the same: simple and straight forwards.

Bailey walked back into the living room, carrying a few bowls and plates of snacks. She had put the pretzels I brought into a bowl, along with some crackers and chips. On the plates was some kind of toasted bread with a salsa-like spread on top and cookies.

"What's that?" I asked, seeing her pick up a piece of the toasted bread.

"Bruchetta, it's really good." Bailey said, taking the remote control and quickly skipping to the movie's main menu.

We talked through the whole movie, mostly cracking jokes or commenting on something we saw. The snacks were gone halfway through the movie, but we were both too comfortable to get up. I told her about the case at Guantanamo tomorrow, which she seemed nervous about.

"Be careful there. I've never been there, but it sounds very shady." Bailey smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But good luck on the case. Thanks to my last case, I have three whole days to myself, which means sleeping, eating, and reading."

"I hope I get at least a day off after this case. I just ordered a few books online and they should be in by the time I return." I hummed, watching as another character was killed. Bailey chuckled, knowing of my reading addiction.

We watched a few more movies and I left Bailey's house late. The metro was desolate, except for a rare few sketchy looking individuals.

Then again, I probably fit in with these sketchy people.


	9. Chapter 9: Trouble In Chicago

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Bailey _**

As I told Spencer, I spent the next three days eating, sleeping, and reading. I spent my last few hours of freedom re-packing my go-bag and making sure that I had stocked up on all my necessities for the next few weeks. It was a nice staycation, but I was ready to head back into work.

The second day of my break, Garcia called me in tears, telling me to turn on the news. The news anchors were reporting a story about an explosion; and through her tears, Garcia told me that the BAU team was connected, but they were all safe.

I tried to call Aaron, but my attempts kept going straight to his voicemail. I called Spencer, who answered, but sounded very unlike himself. His stuttering wasn't from embarrassment, but from shock. The genius assured me that everyone was alright and that he would see me in the office when I came back on Thursday.

On Thursday, I decided to forgo the subway and took my Jeep to work. I stopped at a coffee shop and grabbed my usual order and a sugar spiked coffee for my Doctor friend. I drove the rest of the way to the FBI headquarters and parked my car. I shuffled into the pristine building, smiling at the familiar faces that I passed.

"_Goooood_ morning, BAU!" I greeted once I rode the elevator to the upper floor. I stepped into the bullpen, playfully nudging Morgan hello and nodding to Emily. I placed the coffee to-go cup on Spencer's desk, not surprised to see the genius absent. I waved to JJ, seeing her on the phone in her office. She smiled, mouthing '_see you at lunch'_ and winking. I laughed, heading back to the elevator and taking it down to my floor.

"Hello, my lovelies!" I said, entering my own bullpen. George was scribbling away at a file, lifting his head for a millisecond to smile widely at me. Mikaela gave me a wide, toothy grin.

"Happy morning." Mikaela greeted, her dark eyes trained on my desk. "Stella left a case for you."

Frowning, I sat down at my desk and grabbed the manila folder. Reading the case file, I leaned back into my chair. It seemed simple enough: single mother found carrying meth, while her two young daughters watched their infant sister. The type of meth that the woman had been carrying was a strand only sold by a man we were trying to hunt down.

That man, was suspected of stalking and assaulting people all across North Carolina.

"Looks like I'm going to an interrogation in Fredericksburg." I mused, looking up at the clock. I could make the 35 minute drive, question this woman, and be back in time for lunch. I grabbed my keys and told Stella I was heading out.

The drive to the prison was calming. I'd always felt calm while driving; the loud music, the wind blowing against my face, watching the road ahead of me while the scenery flew by.

I straightened my blue blouse when I parked my car outside the imposing building. I grabbed my bag and straightened my DVU I.D. tag that was pinned over my heart. The guard at the door didn't seem interested in me and demanded that I leave my gun with him.

"I'm here to question a…" I said, opening up the file that I held at my side. "A…Bethany Sanderson."

The guard said that today was a good time for a visit and said that he'd get Miss Sanderson in a questioning room for me. I read over the file again while I waited, reading myself to face the woman. The guard came to retrieve me twenty minutes later and brought me to a gray and concrete room.

Bethany Sanderson was a woman that was sunken in like a mummy. Her blue eyes were dull, glazed with sadness. Her hair was thin and patchy, the roots grey compared to the end of the locks which were a dark brown.

"Bethany Sanderson? I'm Agent Woods from the drug and violence unit of the FBI." I said, smiling at the cuffed woman. "I'm here to ask you a few questions."

Bethany didn't respond, but her eyes followed my every move. I sat down across from her, placing the file in front of me.

"You were arrested a few nights ago for the possession of a controlled substance. Care to tell me where you got the meth?"

Straight to the point, that usually worked.

"Nope."

Or not.

"How long have you been using meth, Bethany?"

"Three months." Came the muttered response. Bethany tucked her chin down to her chest, trying as best she could to shy away from me.

"My team is looking for the man who makes this strain of meth." I said, putting my elbows on the metal table. Bethany's eyes looked anywhere but me, bouncing around to the corners of the room.

"I'm not here to question you to make a case against you. It will actually work in your favor to answer my questions as best you can. I can tell the judge that you helped me and that will get you a lighter sentence." I said, watching as Bethany started nervously picking at her cuticles. She was second guessing herself.

"Don't you want to see Phoebe again?" I asked, pulling out the pictures of her daughters; who were all beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes. "Or Rose? Or Harriet? Your girls need their mother."

Bethany broke, a single tear dribbling down her face. "O-on one c-condition."

"What is it?" I asked, ready to negotiate.

"I-I'm not s-stupid enough t-to believe that I-I won't get any jail time at a-all." Bethany whimpered, unable to wipe her face with her cuffed hands. "I…my girls…they th-they can't go into foster care! N-not even for a d-day."

"I can see to it that they have somewhere safe to stay until you're released." I said, understanding the woman's distrust of the child care system. Bethany shook her head, her hair flying around her.

"I-I have a cousin. He'll t-take care of them. H-his name's Manuel Sanderson." Bethany said, coughing. "Promise me th-that you'll get my g-girls to him, and I'll t-tell you anything."

I wrote down the name, nodding at Bethany. She sobbed, her brows dropping in relief. I smiled, trying to comfort the woman. She was good, just in a bad place in life. She had three little girls and worked two jobs. The father of the children ran off with another woman, not even bothering to call his ex-girlfriend to ask about his children.

Meth had been an escape.

"I bought the meth…from this guy. I meet him in a storage unit in Fredericksburg on the Jefferson Davis Highway. He's there every Tuesday night from five until eight. He said any later would be too suspicious." Bethany said, sniffling.

"You had no way to contact him? What if you needed a hit?" I asked, watching the woman for any ticks or flinches.

"None. By only meeting one night a week…it made all of us buy more. We were all scared we'd run out. H-his name is Kyle. I don't know a last name." Bethany admitted, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Alright. Can you tell me about Kyle? What does he look like? What does he normally act like?" I leaned back in my chair, dropping my shoulders. Bethany copied my movements, feeling comfortable.

"He's big, taller than me, chubby too. I remember…he wore a double XL jacket; the tag always stuck out of his collar. He's tan, but it's a fake tan. He's got short, black hair. He's always so cool, like nothing bothered him. Kyle always claps when he wants to emphasize something." Bethany said, her eyes growing a spark. She didn't want to sell Kyle out; she obviously liked him. But she was doing this for her kids.

"Thank you, Bethany." I said, packing up the file. Bethany's brow furrowed in thought, like she was searching her brain.

"Kyle got into a scuff with another customer and got clocked. His nose was always crooked since then. He said the doctor at the hospital messed up fixing his nose….the hospital was in Spotsylvania."

I smiled, thanking Bethany again before hauling out of the prison. I got my gun back at the front desk and thanked the guard for his time. I was in my car and on my way back to work before eleven o'clock. I pulled my cellphone out before I left the parking lot, hit my first speed dial, and set the phone on speaker.

"_Holt_."

"Hey Ollie, my main man!" I chuckled, hearing my tech sigh. "I got some coal that you can work into diamonds, handsome. Look up hospitals in Spotsylvania and look for an emergency patient with a broken nose within the last three months. He could be under the name Kyle, but he could have used another name. Dark hair, fake tan, chubby. His nose was fixed, but was left with a permanent crick."

"Is this for the Newton case?" Ollie asked, working through his databases.

"You know it." I said, speeding to keep up with the flow of traffic.

"Alright. I've got sixty-three people entering Spotsylvania Regional Medical Center with broken noses, forty-six being male. None named Kyle." Ollie said, grumbling. I frowned, feeling my adrenaline high dropping down. I thought I had a good lead going.

"Buuuut."

"Oh, is that a _but_ I hear?" I cooed, laughing at Ollie's loud '_aha!'_.

"There was a man four weeks ago that came into the emergency room with a broken nose from a supposed bar fight. A Doctor Marconi fixed his nose, but the patient complained of bad craftsmanship. Security had to escort him out." Ollie said, typing quickly on his keyboards.

"And his name was?" I said, practically bouncing in my seat.

"Noland Berg." Ollie said, the clacking of his keys ceasing as he opened all necessary information. "Age twenty-eight, 6'2, 260 pounds. Lives in a motel on Massaponax Church Road."

"Please forward any and all information to everyone, pretty please. I'll be back home in twenty!" I said, saying goodbye to the tech.

The drive to base was slower because of early lunch traffic. I pulled into the FBI around eleven-thirty and had retold my adventure to my team by eleven-fifty. Stella was excited and took George out to Noland Burg's motel, leaving Mikaela, Ollie, and I to go to lunch.

I took the elevator to the BAU floor, ready to have some food with my JJ. I waved at the rest of the BAU as I scampered to JJ's office, where she had sandwiches and fries waiting for us.

"Good day?" I asked JJ, who was already happily munching on her bacon, ham and swiss sandwich.

"Slow. It always is between cases. I think Gideon is damn exhausted from this last case. He had all those lives hanging on his ability to trick that one man." JJ shuddered, grimacing.

"Poor man." I frowned, unable to imagine having so many lives in my hands.

"Spence asked about you on the ride home." JJ said nonchalantly after a few minutes of easy conversation.

"Asked about what?" I said, controlling my overly curious response.

"Little things. Asking if I knew where you grew up, went to school. Just chit chat while we flew." JJ said, smiling at Spencer through her glass walls. He was sitting at his desk, sipping at the last of the coffee I had gotten him earlier this morning.

"Huh." I said, taking a sip of my water. "Why wouldn't he just ask me?"

JJ hummed in thought, pulling the crust off one part of her sandwich. "Maybe he felt he was out of bounds to ask you. Like you'd be embarrassed by his questions."

I frowned, thinking over the thought. Sure, Spencer and I had hung out once outside of work and occasionally came and left work together. So we had a nice start of a friendship.

"Clearly he doesn't know you that well then. If he did, he'd know that you have zero embarrassment." JJ shot playfully, earning a nasty look from me. The fellow blonde laughed, loving to mess with me.

"You should fix that. I know you drove Box today." JJ said, referring to the nickname I gave to my Jeep. "Why don't you offer to drive Spence home? Maybe an early dinner before?"

"Jay…you are a genius."

* * *

**_Bailey _**

At the end of the work day, I headed back up to the BAU floor. Spencer wasn't at his desk in the bullpen, so I started towards the small kitchen lounge where the coffee maker was kept. Spencer was there, pouring pure sugar into a large black mug of coffee.

"So, I heard you did a stint in Guantanamo." I said, making the unknowing agent jump. "Just so you know, I'm a little bit into jailbirds."

Spencer laughed, turning to me and smiling. "I never imagined myself as an inmate."

"You could be someone's bitch." I laughed, leaning against the counter. "Speaking of being someone's bitch; do you want a ride home? I drove today. We could get pizza or something."

"Actually, I drove my car today, too." Spencer smiled. Internally, I frowned. Was he going to shoot down my offer for food?

"Oh, oka-"

"There is a diner on my block that I really like. Follow behind me and we can eat." Spencer said nicely, his cheeks dimpled by his pleased smile. I agreed, adjusting my large purse on my shoulder. We walked to the parking lot together, chatting about our day.

We parted ways in the lot and I watched as Spencer strode over to an older looking car. It was a very light shade of blue and only had one side mirror. I pulled my Jeep out of the lot behind him and rode behind him all the way to the diner. I parkedin the diner's lot beside Spencer, locking the doors behind me.

"Sweet ride." I said, walking with Spencer in stride.

"Thanks. It's a 1966 Volvo Amazon P130." Spencer said, holding open the large glass door for me.

"I have no concept of cars. I'm lucky I can change my own oil without Box blowing up." I laughed, holding the next door open for Spencer. He looked confused, internally questioning if it was ungentlemanly to let a lady hold a door open for him. I waved him in, jokingly saying that my arm was going numb. We were quickly seated in the corner booth, tucked away from the rest of the customers.

"So, tell me about yourself." I said playfully, wrapping the empty straw wrapper around my fingers. "The kinda dirt you'll put in your memoirs."

Spencer laughed; a medium pitched chuckle that made me smile. His hazel eyes roamed the table for a few seconds, like he was contemplating where to start.

He grew up in Las Vegas as an only child. His best friend, who was also a rival, was a man named Ethan that he said he spoke to a few times a year. Spencer said it was the kind of friendship where they wouldn't talk for months; but when they did, it was like they just picked up where they left off. I asked Spencer about school, he told me he skipped multiple grades and graduated high school at twelve years old and then started looking at college.

Do you know what his 'backup college' was?

_Yale_.

Freaking Yale.

Spencer told me that his mom was really proud of him, but that she was too busy to really take care of him. His father left them when he was ten, but Spencer didn't give me a reason why. Spencer said he enjoyed college a lot more than high school. He'd received his first PhD in mathematics at seventeen.

I laughed and told him that at seventeen, I was struggling with trigonometry and attempting to drive without getting lost.

After his first PhD, Spencer got two more. _TWO_! While in classes for his third doctorate, one for chemistry, Spencer went to see a lecture being given by Gideon. From then on, it was history. Spencer, along with Ethan, joined the FBI academy. He was positive about his decision until Ethan dropped out on the first day of training. They never talked about why.

Spencer shadowed Gideon for a few years before, at the astounding age of twenty-two, he was asked to join the BAU. He'd been there ever since.

"What about you?" Spencer asked, his fingers tapping the edge of his soda glass.

I kept it short.

I grew up in a small city in Upstate New York. I have both my parents; my mother who's a special education teacher and my father who's an attorney. I have two older brothers, both who piss me off to no end. I spend my entire education in private Catholic schools, which were actually worse than people described them.

I went to an all-women's college in my city. I lived at home, since I wasn't too fond of change and I didn't want to share showers. I only applied for two other colleges, but they just weren't what I wanted. It took me four years to get a double bachelor degree in creative art therapy and psychology. I stayed with my school, Russell Sage, for my masters in social work and criminology.

I wasn't sure what I could exactly do with my degrees, so I went off to New York City. I joined the NYPD at twenty-three and stayed with them for a few years. It wasn't until one of my coworkers mentioned the FBI academy that I even considered it. I'd taken the training and I've been with the Drug and Violence Unit for about a year.

Not bad for a twenty-seven year old.

"I miss college a bit." Spencer admitted after I said that I missed my old school. "I've been thinking about getting another bachelor. Maybe philosophy."

"If you can, go for it." I said, shrugging my shoulders. Spencer looked at me for a moment, his hazel eyes inspecting me.

"Aren't you going to say that I have too many degrees?" Spencer asked almost shyly. I scoffed, leaning back into the plastic material of the booth.

"Hey, if you want to get more degrees than God, who am I to question you?" I laughed, confused by his reaction. Spencer's face lit up, a wide smile dimpling his cheeks.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

"I think we should ask Emily to have lunch with us today." I said, looking towards the black haired agent. She seemed to be getting along with the BAU well enough, but it was always hard to find your niche in a new workspace.

JJ, who had her bag slung over her shoulder, hummed. "I think that would be a good idea."

We walked over to Emily's desk, where said agent was dully watching her desktop screen. JJ cleared her throat, causing the noirette to turn and smile.

"We're going to lunch." JJ announced with a soft smile. "You want to come?"

"C'mon, can't say no to food!" I chuckled, wagging my eyebrows at Emily. Emily smiled, and nodded eagerly. The three of us left the FBI building and found a 24-hour pub to have a late lunch at.

"So, how's the BAU?" I asked, stirring the straw of my soda. Emily shrugged her shoulders, but there was a soft smile on her face.

"It's been great." Emily answered honestly. "You work a few floors down, don't you?"

The rest of our lunch was fun and full of laughs. Emily turned out to be a lot less serious than I had thought. The noirette made jokes and seemed to appreciate a little bit of dark humor. By the end of the lunch, I was fully assured that JJ, Emily, and I were going to be very good friends.

Now, if we could only work out a time where Garcia, JJ, Emily, Mikaela, and I could all go out for a girls lunch; that would be amazing!

* * *

**_Three Weeks Later _**

**_Spencer _**

Bailey and I had gotten to know each other very well in the last three weeks. I'd insinuated that my mother wasn't just busy, but that she was busy with personal problems. Bailey acknowledged, but she didn't push.

I like that.

I knew that I'd eventually have to let her know everything about me. She knew about ninety-seven percent of my entire life. I was holding that last three percent of me close to my chest until I was sure that Bailey wouldn't run off screaming or treat me differently.

But I trusted her. Just as much as I trusted my team.

Which is why I found myself calling her as I rushed around my apartment. I had my phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear as I tried to pack up my go-bag that I had emptied last night so I could clean it.

"Hello?" Bailey answered, but her voice was slightly fuzzy. It sounded like she had her phone on speaker.

"Morgan's been arrested!" I said, pulling my clean go-bag out of my drier and rushing towards my closet. I started shoving clothes into the bag haphazardly.

"What?" Bailey asked, sounding shocked. "For what? Is he alright?"

"I don't know! I don't know! I don't know and Hotch just called and said that the jets off in thirty. He just said that Morgan's been arrested for murder and I don't know! I don't know-"

"Spencer!" Bailey said sharply, cutting off my terrified ranting. Morgan was one of the best friends I'd ever had. I couldn't lose him! "Just breathe. Finish packing and go!"

"I'm just so…_frazzled_! I don't ever remember be-being this discombobulated!" I found myself taking a deep breath. I could practically feel my insides jingling around anxiously.

"Alright, Doc, deep breaths. I've got a trick for quick packing. Starting from your feet; pack what you need for each body part, so you won't miss anything." Bailey said, sounding exhausted.

"I-I don't understand." I huffed, pouring my overly stuffed go-bag out onto my bed.

"Like this: start with your feet. What do you need for your feet? Socks and shoes. Pack socks and shoes. Next: what do you need for your legs? Pants and underwear. Pack pants and underwear. See where I'm going with this?" Bailey yawned, but she sounded amused.

I let a small smile cross my face as I sorted through what I previously had shoved into my go-bag. "That's an interesting way to make sure you don't forget anything."

"I prefer the term paranoid or anal to interesting, but thank you."

"Well it's helpful." I found myself laughing, zipping up my now more manageable go-bag. "Without your trick, I would be walking out of my house with a bag filled with only one shirt, a pair of old track pants, eight pairs of socks, and no underwear."

"I'm glad to be of service. Tell Aaron if he needs another agent, I'm free for service." Bailey chuckled, a deep breathy sound that calmed my frayed nerves. I grabbed my car keys, threw my bag over my shoulder, and locked my door behind me.

"I'll run it by Hotch. I'll let you get back to bed, Bay." I said, feeling sweat beginning to dot the back of my neck. "Thanks for _uhh_…you know. Listening."

"Thanks for calling, Spence. I'll make sure to make Morgan something special for when he comes back. Wish him luck and send love." Bailey said softly, making me smile.

"Good night, Bay."

* * *

**_Spencer_**

I'd grown tired of pacing. The local police still wouldn't let us see Morgan. They kept calling him '_the suspect'_ and I could detect very strong racist undertones. Hotch was on the phone with some higher ups and he sounded pretty angry. I warily side stepped some officers and pulled out my phone. I dialed Bailey, who answered after the first few rings.

"Is everything alright?" Bailey answered immediately. I heard the sounds of an elevator in the background. She must be at work.

"No." I found myself hissing. "The police won't let us see Morgan. They say that he's murdered a kid from the local youth shelter that he used to go to as a kid. They've got pictures of Morgan talking to this kid just yesterday. His card was in the kid's pocket."

"Damn, those are some coincidences." Bailey said, sounding perturbed. "Wait, this is Chicago, PD, right? I think that's where Morgan told me his Mama lives."

"Yeah. The detective's name is Gordinski." I said, shooting a glance towards the slightly over set man who was surrounded by a handful of his coworkers, looking victorious.

"Wait!" Bailey yelped, sounding shocked. "Big guy, weight wise? Dark hair that's graying by his ears? Eyebrows that look like angry caterpillars?"

I couldn't help but laugh; situation be damned. I let out a small chuckle, my shoulders shaking. JJ, who was the closest to me, looked at me, confused. Then, she smiled and winked at me, like she knew who I was talking to.

"That's a pretty good description." I said, stifling my inappropriate smile. "He's very…frustrating. I don't want to insinuate that Detective Gordinski is unprofessional, but-"

"But he's a freaking racist. Mikaela and Stella had a meeting with him a few years ago, but he'd only speak to Stella. Said he didn't trust in Mikaela's abilities." Bailey huffed, sounding agitated.

"We have to treat this situation delicately. We just want Morgan cleared of these ridiculous charges and to bring him home." I said, scratching the back of my neck. Bailey hummed in agreement, sounding a little put off.

"It's sad." Bailey said after a few moments of silence.

"I don't think Morgan's sad. Probably just angry as all Hell."

"No, well yes, this situation is sad. But think about it, Spence. If Morgan wasn't an FBI agent, if he was just an everyday man, his race and these strange circumstances would be enough to lock him away without anyone asking questions." Bailey said softly.

I frowned, understanding the irritation that Bailey was feeling. It wasn't fair. I was suddenly thankful that I had called Bailey. She'd given me a breath of fresh air, enough air to clear my mind and see the situation differently. She proposed a scenario that I hadn't thought of.

"Thanks, Bay."

"You've been saying that a lot, Doc. You might as well get a thank you sign to wear around your neck."


	10. Chapter 10: Out and About

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Bailey _**

I rushed to the elevator the moment Spencer told me that the BAU team had returned. I grabbed my container of desserts and rode the elevator to their floor. I was worried about Morgan, even though he was safe at home. Our relationship was one forged in humor and teasing. Morgan would tease me and then I would pester him. We were always light hearted together, which gave each of us the comedic relief that our job required.

I spied Morgan as soon as the elevator doors opened. He looked tired and tense at his desk, staring at a stack of papers. But his eyes weren't moving, he wasn't reading the papers. He was just sitting there, his dark brown eyes fogged over in deep thought. I jogged towards Morgan's desk, happy to see the hulking man sitting behind his seat.

"Morgan!" I said, placing the container on his desk and wrapping my arms around his neck. Morgan chuckled, getting out of his seat and hugging me back. Morgan groaned happily, kind of like how a cat would when you hugged it too tightly.

"Little Miss Woods! I never thought I'd miss that face." Morgan teased, squeezing my shoulders. I pulled away from the hug to open the container of desserts.

"Well then, Mister Morgan, I guess you're lucky that this face decided to make you some '_sorry you almost got arrested'_ sweets." I laughed, seeing Morgan's eyes light up at the sight of the container full of cupcakes, cookies, and brownies. He plucked a mini-cupcake out of the container and shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

"Sugar heals all wounds." Morgan muttered, practically collapsing back into his chair. I smiled, hefting myself up onto Morgan's desk.

"How are you? Really." I asked, seeing something akin to sadness cross Morgan's handsome face. "Spence told me that the station was a little rough."

"It wasn't so much the station as it was the unsub." Morgan said, reaching inside the container for another dessert. I frowned, crossing my legs underneath me.

"Did you know the killer?" I asked. Morgan's eyes hardened for a moment, he looked distant. Like he was thinking about something far away.

"From when I was a kid." Morgan cleared his throat, putting down his half eaten cookie on his desk. "Bailey…can I…talk to you? Maybe in JJ's office?"

I smiled, pushing myself off of the desk. "Sure, let's go kick Jay out!"

* * *

**_JJ_**

I saw the glint of determination in Derek's eye when he calmly stepped into my office. He asked if he could use my office to talk to Bailey about what happened with Carl. Knowing that this might be the only time that Derek was going to confide in someone other than the team by his own free will, I quickly shuffled out. Bailey smiled, bumping her knuckles with mine as I closed the office door behind me.

"What're they doing up here?" Emily asked, watching Derek and Bailey situate themselves in my office. Derek never closed the blinds. Spencer turned in his desk chair, watching the two with an analytical gaze.

"She's comfortable. Look at the way she's sitting in the chair: her arms and legs are uncrossed, she's leaning towards Morgan. She also knows that he's about to tell her something important. She's trying to make herself look submissive to make him comfortable and powerful enough to confide in her. See how her shoulders are slumped and she's trying to appear smaller." Spencer said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Slow down there, Boy Wonder." Emily chuckled, turning her attention back to her paperwork. Everyone knew what Morgan was telling Bailey in my office, but no one wanted to talk about it. I don't even know how Morgan was planning on telling her. Even though I couldn't hear what was going on, I could make a fair guess by their body language.

Morgan was sitting beside Bailey, talking softly. His shoulders were stiff and his head was bowed, but Bailey made him raise his head. Bailey's shoulders shook as she grabbed Morgan's hands and squeezed.

I frowned and Spencer flinched at Bailey's low pitched cry of disbelief. Bailey wrapped her arms around Morgan and began to rock them back and forth. Morgan clung to Bailey, but did not cry.

He just held on.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

George, Stella, Mikaela, and I sat in the FBI issued black SUV as we drove through the back woods of Mississippi. Someone had been breaking into elderly people's houses, beating them, robbing them, and leaving behind a letter written in Chinese.

"What do the letters say?" George asked, his attention trained on the winding back road. Mikaela opened up her folder, pulling out four photocopied letters.

"All four letters were written in simplified Chinese. The first says_: 'I am sorry, I cannot stop. I wish I did not have to do this.'_ The second says: _'I regret what I have done. I cannot stop.' _The third: '_I cannot stop. I need this_.' The fourth is: _'I need more. More drugs. I can't stop. They are making me unstoppable._'" Mikaela read the characters.

I thought, leaning further into my seat. The criminal sounded regretful, wishing for sobriety even. He wants to stop, but at the same time he wants the feeling of power that a high gives him.

"Any leads?" I asked, accepting an artist sketch from Stella, who was holding another of the case folders with her in the passenger seat.

"All four elderly couples gave the artist this same description. Male, dark hair, light eyes, pale skin, 6'2, thin, with a high pitched voice." Stella said, flicking through the other artist sketches.

"His Chinese is flawless." Mikaela noted, rereading his letters. "But none of these artist sketches show a man of Chinese descent."

"Doesn't have to be." George commented, turning into the local police station's parking lot.

"I think we should look for anyone who's immigrated from China, or any Chinese speaking country." Stella muttered, stepping out of the SUV.

"And check local colleges and schools that offer simplified Chinese classes." I said, adjusting my green button up as I slid out of the massive SUV.

The next few days proved to be trying. The local PD did not trust any kind of FBI agent, and they saw us as a hindrance to their case. It was like pulling teeth to try and get information. By the third day, I was ready to pull my hair out.

I was soaking in the hotel's hot tub, trying to seep some stress out of my bones when my cell phone rang. It was 12:30 at night, so the pool area was abandoned except for me. I pulled my cellphone close and put it on speaker before resting it on a towel at the edge of the tub.

"Agent Woods. Speak now or forever hold the pieces of my broken psyche."

"Bay?" Spencer's voice echoed around the tiled room.

"Hey, Spence." I greeted, feeling my entire being relax in the boiling water. "What's hanging, my main man?"

"Nothing much, just getting through paperwork. Mine and all the files that the rest of the team slip on my desk." Spencer said, not sounding disgruntled by the extra work. Then again, Spence did read faster than what I previously thought humanly possible.

"What are, _ahem_, you doing?" Spencer asked.

"Well, the local police are not helping at all with this case." I said, leaning my head back against the chilly tile. Maybe I'd take a dunk in the pool to cool down before I headed back to my room.

"In the words of Garcia: 'Been there, done that'." Spencer joked, letting out a quirky little chuckle. I couldn't help but laugh along.

"But we're close. We've got a good suspect. Hopefully we'll be back home soon." I muttered, sitting up in the hot tub. The water sloshed around, making a loud noise.

"That's, _uhhh_, good. Where are you?"

"Hotel's hot tub." I murmured, stretching out my back. "I'm telling you, Spence, I'm saving up for my own hot tub A.S.A.P."

"A microbiologist at Texas A&M University discovered that nearly all hot tubs house some type of microbial growth. In 95 percent of the tested tubs, bacteria derived from feces were present, while 81 per cent had fungi, and 34 per cent contained potentially deadly staphylococcus bacteria." Spencer said, sounding slightly disgusted.

"…So, you _don't_ want to come over for my hot tub christening party?" I said, quickly stepping out of the bubbling water. I sent it a wary glance as I picked up my towel, phone, and room key. The water looked pretty clean. Chlorine killed germs, right?

"I'd rather not." Spencer laughed.

"Sweets, I'm gonna jump in the pool, head up to my room and crash. I'll talk or text you tomorrow, alright?" I said, tossing my towel down on one of the reclining chairs by the pool.

Spencer cleared his throat before responding. "I'll stay on the, _uhhh_, on the line until you g-get to your room."

"Alright." I said, shrugging to myself. "Give me a second."

I took a jogging start, since there were about ten signs that said _'NO RUNNING'_ all over the pool area. I cannonballed into the deep end, the chilly water feeling ten times colder due to my twenty minute boil in the hot tub. I pulled myself out of the pool, wiping water out of my eyes and wringing my hair out. I quickly dried off and wrapped my towel around myself.

"Still there?" I asked into my cell phone, padding out of the pool area. The hotel was dead quiet, and the man at the front counter looked like he was drooling from boredom.

"S-still here." Spencer said, coughing. "Are you close to your room?"

"I'm on the fourth floor with George." I said, getting in the elevator. I felt bad about the small puddles I was making on the ground, but I was growing too tired to care.

"With George?" Spencer asked, sounding confused.

"_Yeeaaaah_?" I said, laughing. "George, you know. From my team? You've met him like eight times."

"N-no, yeah, yeah. I mean…you're rooming with him?"

I couldn't help but laugh. I laughed until the elevator opened up on my floor. "Spence! Are you jealous?"

"N-no!" Spencer sputtered, sounding insulted. "I-I, _ahem_, am looking o-out for your b-best, _uhhhh_, interests!"

"Well, thank you for that, Spence." I chuckled, opening my hotel door with my key. The digital lock turned green and slid open. I nudged the door open with my hip and stepped into my room. I waved at George, who was watching silly YouTube videos on his laptop. I motioned to the bathroom, indicating that I would be in there for a while. I closed the bathroom door behind me and set my cellphone on the counter. I started to unknot my bathing suit bottoms, letting the wet cloth slap against the tile floor as it fell off.

"N-no problem." Spencer said, clearing his throat again. I started unknotting my bathing suit top and decided that it was time to let Spencer go free.

"Listen." I said, tossing my bathing suit top off to the corner. "George and I have been friends and partners for a long long time. There is nothing unprofessional about us sharing rooms. The BAU is lucky that you have an even number so you can have same-gender roommates. But the DVU is a smaller, less called on team."

"Your job isn't any less important than mine-"

"I'm not saying that." I said, snagging some of the amazing complimentary soaps off the counter. "I'm just saying that the DVU isn't called on as often as the BAU. Therefore, we aren't given as many luxuries as you guys are. With that, I bid you goodnight!"

Spencer laughed, the sound making me smile. He said goodnight and hung up, leaving me to take a shower, dress, and slip into bed.

* * *

**_Four Days Later; _**

**_Bailey _**

Spencer and I were walking down the street, ready to spend the afternoon together. My team had finished up our case; it turned out to be a college language professor who ended up taking heroine to fuel his psychotic rages. The BAU had also just gotten back from their case in Nevada, but Spencer didn't want to talk about it much. He just said that the unsub was a twisted person and had managed to get away after using a group of school kids as leverage. I understood his frustration. A lot of the suspects my team was looking for were professionals about running; drug users and dealers were a wily bunch to track down.

"This place is nice." I commented, looking up at the sign for the used book store. "The man that owns it is great. It's not one of those fancy bookstore cafes or anything, but it's cheap and has good books. Hey, are you okay?" I asked, seeing Spencer freeze out of the corner of my eye.

Spencer was staring at something across the street, a deep frown on his face. I tried to follow his line of sight, but his height made it a little difficult for my significantly shorter line of sight to catch. I finally found what he was staring at: an old wind chime hanging outside one of the stores.

"Spence? You okay?" I asked again, nudging my hip against the side of his leg. Spencer shook himself, his hair flopping around. He smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Just thinking about how I _never_ want a wind chime." Spencer said, shrugging his shoulders. "And if anyone's ever thought about coating peas in chocolate and selling them as an aphrodisiac."

I shot Spencer a confused smile, raising my brow at the strange food mixture. Spencer just laughed, opening the door of the used book store for me. We stepped inside and separated; he went to the math section, and I went to the non-fiction section. We peddled around in the store for about an hour, when my phone rang. I picked it up instantly.

"Woods."

"Good afternoon, my queen! A little chocolate finch told me that he saw you and my Junior G-Man pecking around town together." Garcia chirped. I rolled my eyes playfully. It was like Spencer and I couldn't take a breath in the same room without Garcia finding out.

"Hey, Tech Mama." I said, reaching up for a book that was placed on a higher shelf. "We're just shopping around. Seeing what there is to see, you know? Do you need him?"

"Oh no! I just wanted to invite you two over for drinks! Maybe watch a little movie or two." Garcia said excitedly.

"Will a little chocolate finch be there, too?" I asked, hearing a deep laugh in the background. Morgan was obviously over at Garcia's already.

"Of course! If you two are busy in that book store I know you're in, you don't have to come! We can always rain check." Garcia said happily.

"No, we'll be over soon. I should probably get Spence out of here before he inhales too much of that new book smell and gives himself an aneurysm." I laughed, hearing Spencer's indignant huff from a few rows over. Garcia laughed, repeating what I said to Morgan, who laughed loudly. I nodded to Spencer, who ran to the front to buy his stack of books. We hurried out of the store to Spencer's car. He tossed his paper bag filled of books into his backseat before starting his engine and driving us to Garcia's apartment.

Garcia's apartment was exactly how I envisioned it. The exterior was beautiful; a large brick building surrounded by greenery. She was on the second floor, her door painted an eccentric bright purple.

"How in the world did she get her landlord to agree to let her paint?" I asked, remembering all the tight-ass landlords that I had before I bought my house.

"Garcia gets what she wants." Spencer laughed, knocking loudly. The brass knob turned as the bubbly blonde opened the door, her hair braided in two tails.

"Took you two long enough!" Garcia joked, holding the door open for us. Inside, Morgan was lounging on one of the suede green couches, stuffing his mouth with popcorn. He waved at us, scotching over on the couch to give his Baby Girl somewhere to sit.

"Movie night, oh yeah, movie night!" Garcia sang to herself, shuffling to her kitchen to grab snacks and drinks. Spencer and I sat on the other sofa, the smaller loveseat causing us to sit closer together than normal.

"Thanks, Tech Mama." I said, accepting the glass of soda. Garcia filled her table with snacks and junk foods before putting in a 'surprise' movie.

"Oh, God!" I said, recognizing the intro of the movie. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked worriedly as Garcia rolled her eyes.

"It's just _Homeward Bound_." Garcia said, snagging a handful of chips from the large bowl at the table.

"The one with the talking animals?" Morgan asked, raising a thick brow at Garcia, who smiled and playfully snuggled into his shoulder.

"I'm going to cry. I'm telling everyone now: I'm going to _cry_ like a five year old girl." I promised, kicking my feet up and underneath me. Spencer stretched his legs out, his feet going under the table.

"Why will you cry?" Spencer asked, nervously scooting an inch away.

"Because! There's dogs!" I said, frowning at the memory of Shadow falling down that hole and getting hurt. I could watch all of those SAW torture movies without blinking, but any kind of animal abuse or animals getting hurt in movies turn me to tears.

"…_Yes_. There's dogs." Spencer said slowly, as if he was trying to speak to a small child.

"I think Bails means that dogs getting hurt in any movie upset her." Morgan saved me from awkwardly explaining about my unhealthy obsession with dogs. Spencer '_ahhed'_-ed and turned his attention back to the TV. Halfway through the movie, the brunette leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Now that I think about it, you do have a lot of dog memorabilia in your house."

I snorted, jabbing at his cheek with a pretzel rod. "So what? I like dogs; I'm going to die alone with my thirty dogs. I'll be the reverse crazy cat lady."

Spencer laughed, nudging his shoulder against mine. "Dogs really don't like me. Hotch calls it The Reid Effect. Works on kids, too."

"You just haven't met the right dog yet." I promised, thinking about all the beautiful creatures that I had been looking at online. Too many dogs didn't have a home and my house would never feel like a home unless there was a dog living with me. I had been looking at rescues for a long time, but I hadn't been able to click with the right dog just yet.

We watched the rest of the movie in relative silence. By the time Homeward Bound ended, Morgan was snoring loudly. Garcia chose The Muppet Movie to watch next, which I was surprised to see Spencer excited about.

"I love the muppets." Spencer whispered after seeing my surprised expression.

"Yeah, me too." I smiled, leaning in closer to the doctor's warmth. Halfway through the 'Moving Right Along' song, I felt Spencer's weight on me increase.

"Aw! The boys are tuckered out." Garcia cooed, smiling down at Morgan, who was asleep in her lap. Spencer was slumped against my shoulder, his cold nose buried in the collar of my hoodie. Spencer was silent as he slept; his forehead that was normally wrinkled in thought was smoothed out in sleep. His eyes were closed, shifting under the pale lids due to sleep.

"Poor guys." I agreed, hunkering down further in the couch and into Spencer's warmth.


	11. Chapter 11: The Big Game

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Spencer _**

I'd been over at Bailey's house so many times that I was comfortable in her territory. I'd grown accustom to the sandy colored walls, the dark furniture, the rows of DVDs underneath the TV, the large bookshelf filled with books, odds and ends, and my favorite part: the large window seat that overlooked Bailey's backyard garden.

Bailey lounged on her couch in a pair of shorts and an oversized _Buccaneers_ football jersey. I asked her why she was a Tampa Bay fan if she was born in upstate New York. She laughed, saying that she had spent a lot of vacation time down south and her first real football game was in Tampa Bay.

"You ever been to a Super Bowl party?" Bailey asked, twirling one of her short bangs around her finger. After a few awkward conversations where I had to explain to her that I didn't experience some things that most people considered _normal_; such as going to prom, or a New Years Eve party, or a college kegger; Bailey learned to change her questions from '_When was your last…?_' to _'Have you ever…?'_

It sounded harsh to others, but a simple yes-or-no question was a lot less painful for me to answer.

"No." I answered, unembarrassed. I'm not into sports, never really have been. Even as a child when my father signed me up for that little league baseball team. Bailey didn't bat an eyelash as she explained the stereotypical Super Bowl party. Beer, artery clogging snacks, massive sub sandwiches, loud drunken cheering, gambling, and swearing.

Sounded…_fun_.

Please note the sarcasm.

"I'm not really a big football fan myself." Bailey confessed, clicking around on her TV. "I only watch 'cause of the commercials. And the bets."

Before I could talk about the statistics on how often people lost their life savings on sports related gambling, my cellphone started to ring.

"Hey." I answered after seeing JJ's name flash across the screen.

"Spence! We're going out in a few hours! You and Bails want in?" JJ asked.

"Hold on." I said, pressing the phone against my shoulder to muffle my voice. "Bay, it's JJ. The team's going out tonight and she wants to know if you want to come?"

"Sure! As long as you're going!" Bailey called, turning off her TV. I heard her rush into her bedroom and begin opening drawers.

"We're in." I said, putting the phone back up to my ear. JJ laughed, excited, and said that she'd text me the address of the bar. I snapped my phone shut and turned my attention to Bailey's half opened door.

"I'll be a single second!" Bailey called, fumbling with something. I heard her hiss and trip, cursing whatever piece of clothing she was attempting to put on. Bailey then dashed out of her room towards the bathroom, having changed into a pair of tight, torn up jeans and a deep green tee-shirt. She came out of the bathroom, her face painted with a light dusting of foundation and eye make-up.

"Let's go!" She said, rushing us to her car. I tried to offer to drive, but Bailey refused. We drove to the bar, happily chatting about what the night would be like. Bailey had never been to this bar and had never been out with the BAU team before; so tonight was a double new experience for her. We parked a block away, since the parking lot was entirely full. I rushed around to the other side of Bailey's Jeep just in time to open the door for her.

"Oh, thank you, Doctor Spencer!" Bailey said with a smile, getting out of her seat. She stood, dusting off her pants and I noticed that Bailey seemed a little taller. On her feet were these strange sneakers; covered in spikes and belts.

"They're wedge sneakers, with just a little bit of flair." Bailey said, tapping her heels together like a punk remake of Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. We walked into the bar together, I once again holding the door open for her.

"HEY!" Garcia shouted over the music, waving wildly at us. Bailey and I sat with Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Hotch, and Haley for a while, drinking and laughing. When Emily showed up a little while later, the women separated from the men to cruise the bar. Mogran, seeing what he described as _'fine ass ladies'_, hit the dance floor.

"You and Bailey have been getting along." Hotch said, drinking the rest of his beer. I hummed in agreement, smiling at Bailey who was chatting up new friends at the bar.

That was just like Bailey; able to talk to anyone anywhere.

"She's a good friend." I said, a sudden movement catching my eye. Behind me was Rick, a classmate that I had gone through FBI training with. After Ethan left, I was feeling a little isolated, but Rick and I had bonded over a mutual love of all things science-fiction. I was preparing to slide off my seat to go sit with Rick, when Hotch's voice stopped me.

"When's the first date?"

I almost landed face first on the floor. Thankfully, my drink didn't spill and I was able to land on my feet without looking like a floundering lunatic. I shot Hotch a horrified look, but my boss looked like he was asking a pointless question about the weather.

"W-what?!"

"You and Bailey show clear signs of a romantic relationship. Bailey clearly favors you over anyone else." Hotch said, watching Haley and Bailey laugh as they sipped on each other's mixed drinks.

"B-Bailey doesn't…favor me." I found myself grasping the rim of the table so tightly that my knuckles were turning white.

"It doesn't seem so, at the surface." Hotch said, smiling at Haley when she looked back over at our table. "Bailey spends lunch with JJ, sees Garcia after work, takes her breaks with either Morgan, Emily, one of her teammates, or me. But you- she usually comes and goes with you and sees you after work."

"So? We're friends." I defended myself. Hotch smiled, one of the first smiles of this month!

"Bailey has allowed you to invade every aspect of her life." Hotch said, his dark eyes narrowing like a hawk. "And don't think I haven't noticed the new addition to your key ring."

I fumbled again, feeling my face flush. I reached into my back pocket to wrap my hands around my key ring. My car keys, my apartment key, Morgan's apartment key, JJ's house key, and the newest: a small key that had been added only a few days ago. It shone compared to the other plain silver and gold keys. Like most of her belongings, Bailey had given an artistic flair to her spare house key. Bailey had used nail polish to paint her spare key a metallic teal with neon pink hearts and x's.

"I-It's only for emergencies. I have JJ's and Morgan's spares, too!" I said, feeling extremely defensive. Hotch smiled, grabbing his empty glass and leaving for the bar. I stood in silence for a moment, mulling over what Hotch said. I shook it off, walking towards Rick, who was sitting with a girl I think was named Melinda.

Rick filled Melinda into all the drinking games that he and I made up together. She herself was a fan of Star Trek and seemed set on playing our Star Trek trivia drinking game. Rick ordered a few beers and we began playing.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

Emily and I laughed, watching Garcia drool over Morgan who was grinding on the dance floor. Garcia was so enamored with the way Moran moved his hips, she kept losing her straw in her drink.

"Em, I think that guy's looking at you." I said, leaning closer to the dark haired agent. I nodded in the direction of a man sitting at the bar with bright blue eyes and dark hair shorn close to his head. Emily crinkled her nose, looking away.

"Not my type." Emily deflected, turning her attention to another person at the bar. "That string-bean of a man seems to be checking you out."

Emily nodded in the direction of a tall, lean man leaning up against the bar. While he was very tall and thin, his slightly unbuttoned flannel shirt showed off an impressive amount of sinewy muscles. His blonde curly hair touched his shoulders, and he wore a pair of blue jeans and brown cowboy boots.

What really caught my attention was the jade color of his eyes.

I've seen blue, I've seen green, but I've never seen _jade_.

"Morgan isn't the only jungle cat around." I joked, sliding off my stool.

"_Ohhh_- a cat! A big, dangerous puma." Garcia said, still entranced by Morgan's gyrating.

"Cat? More like a dog!" Emily laughed loudly, earning a playful glare from Garcia. I quietly excused myself and got closer to the strange cowboy.

"Hey." I said as soon as the seat next to him opened up. The cowboy looked up at me and smiled.

"How'ya doin'?" He asked.

"Good. Just wanted to come over and say hi. I'm Bailey." I said, smirking when I saw the man's eyebrows arch up in interest.

"I'm Samson Hall." The gorgeous blond offered me a handshake. "You new to the area?"

"Nah. I've been here for a few years. Where are you from?" I asked, hoping that I didn't come off too nosey. Samson smiled and waved the bartender over. He ordered himself a beer and offered me a drink. I ordered a dirty Shirley temple and smiled at Samson's confused glance.

"It's good! Try some!" I said, pushing my glass over. He took a sip of the sugary drink and smiled before gently nudging it back in my direction.

"Too sweet for me; I'm a sour kind of guy. And I'm from Phoenix."

* * *

**_JJ _**

I found two buddies of mine after the ladies and I separated ways at the bar. I may have bragged about my pretty amazing darts abilities; causing my two burly friends to challenge me to a few games.

The boys crowed as another of my darts hit the bull's-eye. I grabbed my drink off the nearby table and glanced around the room for the team. Emily, Haley, and Hotch were sitting at our table, laughing at Morgan who was dancing with three different girls. Garcia darted past me towards the bathrooms. Bailey was talking to some tall blonde man at the bar. And Spencer was-

_Oh my… _

Spencer was sitting with one of his academy friends, watching Bailey. His eyes followed every miniscule movement she made, probably cataloging them away for later analysis. What really shocked me though was the rather un-Spencer like expression on his face. Spencer's eyebrows were furrowed, his forehead crunched, and his lips tugged down in a deep frown.

"_Someone's jealous_." I sing-songed to myself, seeing the irritation in Spencer's gaze. Bailey was laughing with the blonde man; not touching or anything, but laughing loudly. She let him try some of her drink, but that was as close to physical contact that they got. Bailey got off the barstool, but the blonde man gently grabbed the sleeve of her shirt. He asked the bartender for a pen and quickly scribbled something down on a napkin. Bailey accepted the napkin with a smile and then left the man with a joking bow.

"Bailey's got game!" I laughed, nudging her as she passed me. She laughed, spinning on heel and blowing a raspberry in my direction. I was about to chase her back to our table, but my cellphone started to ring.

So much for a night on the town.

* * *

**_Spencer_**

JJ rounded up the entire team, saying that we were needed on a case. I was mentally hitting myself for not taking my own car. I should have known work would have reared its' ugly head. Bailey tossed her keys in my direction, causing me to jump.

"Take my car." Bailey said, looking back over to the bar. "I can get a ride home. Don't worry!"

I frowned, even as she hugged me tightly around the middle. Bailey hugged the others goodbye before turning towards the bar. Her eyes lock on the blonde man I saw her talking to earlier. My hand launched out, seemingly of its own accord, and wrapped around Bailey's wrist.

"N-no. I _uhh_…need to go back to my apartment for my go-bag anyways. C'mon." I said, tugging Bailey out the door behind me. JJ walked beside me, a knowing smirk on her face. She knew that I had just cleaned my go-bag after this last case and it was sitting underneath my desk at work.

"You sure?" Bailey asked, keeping pace with my quick strides.

"Positive." I said adamantly. I couldn't let her ask that man for a ride home. He was far too cocky, too powerful in all of his body language. He didn't look at all surprised that a woman would approach him. What if he was waiting for Bailey?

It was just too risky.

_Yup_.

It has _nothing_ do to with my own insecurities about Bailey seeing another man in a romantic light.

It's simply because asking a stranger for a ride home it too risky.

"I'm sorry the night got cut short." I said once we got to Bailey's car. I opened the door for her before getting into the passenger seat. Bailey smiled and patted my knee, her attention focused on driving.

"It's alright. You _can_ make it up to me." Bailey said, laying on the horn when someone came from around the corner without stopping.

"I, -_ahem_-, what?" I asked, feeling my throat constrict. Before Bailey could respond, she pulled into my apartment parking lot.

"You, Doctor Spencer, can take me out on a date." Bailey smiled widely. I sputtered, running my hand through my hair nervously.

"Don't worry! No pressure!" Bailey laughed, but I saw the sting of rejection in her eyes. I reached out, wrapping my shaky fingers around her forearm.

"I-I…I'd like to…_uhhh_…go out with you." I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. Bailey smiled softly, reaching across the car console to hug me tightly. She wished me luck on this case, told me to remember her go-bag packing trick, and drove out of my apartment.

I stood in the doorway of my building, watching until her headlights were nothing but small dots.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

Spencer texted me once he got to the BAU to ask if I got home safely; and then again once he boarded the jet to tell me he was going to Atlanta, Georgia. I didn't hear from him for a while after that, but I figured he was busy.

Mikaela and I were out having lunch when Spencer texted me. It was a hurried command about taking a piece of tape and covering the webcam that was built into my laptop. Mikaela and I joked about the paranoia of the BAU; but I did what he said as soon as I got home. I even went as far to unplug and cover the webcam that I had from my old desktop.

After that first hurried text, there were a few days of silence.

So, imagine my surprise when my phone rang at nine o'clock at night.

"At least it's not 3 am this time." I muttered, rolling over towards my bedside table. I picked up my phone and fumbled with the device until I managed to turn on the speaker function.

"Woods." I murmured, fighting the urge to curse whoever was calling me.

"Bailey, listen to me." Aaron's stern voice shook me awake. The drowsiness that clouded my mind was quickly vanishing. I jerked up, kicking my blankets off.

Something was wrong, something was very wrong.

"Reid's been taken."

I never understood the phrase _'I felt my world crash down' _until that exact moment. My entire body tensed, but my mind was running on high. My own breathing rang in my ears, my heart thudding painfully loud in my chest.

"B-Aaron…what?" I whimpered, shoving my sleeping clothes off and pulling on a pair of dark pants and a green wife beater.

"The unsub, Tobias Hankel, was able to knock Reid out and take him." Aaron said quickly. "We've found drug paraphernalia in his house. We need you here: now. I've already contacted your Chief, and she's signed all the paperwork. I just sent back the jet. Be at the airstrip in twenty. Garcia will fill you in on the plane."

"Rodger." I said, grabbing my go-bag from its spot at my front door. I pulled on a black jacket, jammed my feet into the first pair of shoes that were in my line of sight, and high-tailed it to the air strip. I called Ollie while I drove, but only got his voicemail.

"Hey, Ollie. It's Woods. I know it's late, but as soon as you get this message, I need the names of every known drug dealer in the Atlanta area. I'll try to give you a smaller area to work with when I learn more. Thanks, Ollie." I said, hanging up.

I parked, taking up at least three parking spaces in my haste, and rushed through to the jet. I flashed by badge to security and greeted the piolet. I didn't even acknowledge the usual fear that I felt while flying. About thirty minutes after take-off, Garcia video called my laptop.

Garcia looked exhausted, with red rings underneath her usually bright eyes. Her golden hair had been pulled at, hanging limply around her face in strands. She wasn't in her lair, but some sort of run down shack.

"Good morning, Pretty." Garcia said, lacking her usual luster. "You will be landing at 10:30 and Morgan will come get you. Until then, here's what we know-"

Pictures of the murders began to fly across my laptop screen. I felt my bottom lip waiver at all the blood. A picture of a young, scruffy man came on screen.

"Tobias Hankel, 30-years-old, only child. A total religious fanatic." Garcia said quickly, typing like the wind. "I'm in his mainframe right now and he's one twisted kitten. He's got multiple personality disorder; you can tell that from the 911 calls he made. I'll send you those, they're pretty gruesome."

"What drug paraphernalia have you found?" I asked, cracking open my own search engine on my laptop. I was no Ollie, but I knew how to search a police database. The laptop started compiling the names of different people that had been arrested for selling illegal substances.

"Needles, half melted spoons. A few empty vials that had hydromorphone. Dilaudid. Gideon thinks Hankel took some with him based on the torn apart medicine cabinet in the bathroom." Garcia said, letting out a deep suffering sigh.

"Tell Morgan to prepare for me to hit the ground running. We're going to get this bastard through his dealer. What neighborhood does Hankel live in or used to live in?" I said, shortening the search to dealers in the Atlanta area that had been arrested with opiates or any drugs similar to Dilaudid.

"He's lived in the same house his entire life. I'll send you the address." Garcia said, and with a clink and a blink of an eye; the address was on my screen. With the smaller area, I started an in depth search.

"I've got two guys in the local area previously arrested for dealing Dilaudid." I said, scrolling over the results. "One is in prison, but the other, Angelina Bunker, was put on bail three months ago. And get this: she's a pastor at a local church."

Garcia and I stayed on video chat with each other, but neither of us talked much. We were each doing our own work, but we didn't want to be left alone. Ten minutes before the jet was set to land, Ollie called me back.

"You rang?" Ollie moaned, sounding half awake.

"Good evening!" I said, looking at my laptop's clock that read 10:20. "I need you!"

"Oh, Sweetie. Only because you asked so nicely." Ollie said. I could hear him crawl over to the desktop set up that he had in his bedroom. I heard the computers boot up and Ollie begin to open all his programs.

"What do you got for me?" Ollie yawned.

"I have a hint. Look up Angelina Bunker, arrested last year for selling opiates. Tobias Hankel took Spencer and I think I can track him down through his dealer. Dilaudid is his poison of choice." I said, emailing everything I had managed to scrounge up to Ollie.

"Tech Mama. The jet's landing, so I'm gonna let you go. I'll see you in a little bit." I said, closing down my search engines. The video feed was up, showing a sad looking Garcia. Garcia's lips were red, like she had been biting them nonstop. She gave a little smile before turning off the chat.

"You alright, Bails?" Ollie asked over the phone.

"…No." I said honestly. I tightened my seat belt as I felt the jet begin to descend. "But I'm going to find him. I'm going to find this mother fucker, and I'm going to help bring Spencer back."

"Damn straight, Bails. I've got some good news. I can tell you exactly where to find Angelina Bunker."


	12. Chapter 12: Revelations Part One

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed!

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Spencer _**

Everything was spinning and numb at the same time. The feeling was…relaxing, euphoric even. I don't ever remember feeling like this before. Not even after the rare times where I would sit at home and get extremely drunk.

The only problem was that I kept seeing things.

Not hallucinations or anything. Memories; of when I was a kid. Of mom being sick. Of dad leaving. Getting bullied and surpassing students who were years older than me. It wasn't a straight timeline. One moment I was twelve in my mother's house, and the next minute I was my age and sleeping on Bailey's couch.

_"Spence, you okay?" Bailey asked, standing in the archway of her kitchen. I'd just returned from a bad case. Some creep was taking children from their beds and raping them. I think Morgan took the case the worst. I went back to my apartment, but the silence was too much. I drove to Bailey's house, knowing that she wasn't there. She was on a case in Montana, and her situation was looking bright the last time I had spoken to her. Her team had taken a train out, which Bay was far too happy with. _

_I let myself into her house, kicking off my shoes at the front door. I locked the door behind me and shuffled into her home. I flicked on the lights, poured myself a glass of water, and made myself at home. Bailey often expressed that she felt content when 'her people' were comfortable in her home. _

_I was elated that she considered me one of 'her people'. _

_Because of this quirk, Bailey had shown me her house as if she was trying to sell it to me. I knew what cabinets had towels, even where all of her dishware went. I wasn't as comfortable in her house as I was in my apartment, but it was a close second. _

_I ended up stealing Bailey's favorite blanket off her bed and falling asleep in her large window seat. I watched as lightning bugs floated around, stars shone, and airplane lights sped through the inky blackness. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember was Bailey waking me up and asking me if I was alright. _

_"B-Bay!" I yelped, sitting up. "I…I didn't mean t-to intrude, it's just-" _

_"Spence, it's cool." Bailey said with a happy smile. "When I said 'me casa, tu casa', I meant it. This is just as much your home as it is mine." _

_"That's not true. Legally-"_

_"Spen…my house is your house." Bailey said, leaning against her kitchen archway. I noticed that her hair was half dried and splayed around her cheeks. She was wearing baggy navy blue sweatpants and a gray tank top. Her skin was rubbed clean and there was a fresh coat of polish on her toes. _

_"When did you get home?" I asked, pushing Bailey's favorite blanket off of me. _

_"Around four this morning. Jay said you guys have the next two days off. Go back to sleep." Bailey said, turning to shuffle back into the kitchen. My voice caught in my throat when I caught sight of the time on the cable box. _

_"Is that time correct?" I squeaked, not believing that I had slept into the afternoon. It was 3:13 in the afternoon! I'd slept for over ten hours! I hadn't done that since I would stay up for days studying at MIT. _

_"As correct as can be. Go back to sleep, or come eat. Relax for once in your life!" Bailey chuckled, flouncing towards the kitchen. "And say it with me: Welcome home!" _

_"You have a very European thoughts about home; a home is a place of distance and close Clan members and not just the nuclear family." I said, leaning back into the cushion of the large window seat. _

_"I don't hear you saying what I want you to say!" Bay chimed from the kitchen. _

_"Welcome home." I said, smiling at Bay's cheer of triumph. And it was true. I felt at home here. No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel at home before. I noticed certain foods that I liked would suddenly appear in the house; just little things like that make a house a home. _

_With Bailey. _

The smell of burning fish livers and hearts pulled me out of my drug induced dream. The smell of sweat, burning fish parts, and mildew stung at my senses. My socked feet skimmed the ground and my tense shoulders creaked in pain. I felt my head pound, and all I was able to emit was a tiny whimper as Tobias measured off another needle. At this point, I wasn't sure if I was whimpering for the pain to stop or for him to hurry up with the needle.

_Bailey_.

Would Hotch call her in? I hoped not. I prayed not. I could see it in my head now: Hankel somehow gets ahold of Bailey and brings her in beside me. I'll have to watch as she's tortured, traumatized, and drugged.

"No…" I whispered, begging to any deity who was willing to listen. "Keep her safe."

* * *

**_Bailey _**

I spotted the black SUV the moment the clouds outside the plane's window cleared. The jet skid to a stop; the engines were still roaring when I raced off the monstrous vehicle. I rushed towards Morgan, who was leaning against the grill of the car.

"Morgan." I said, gripping the agent in a tight hug. I didn't bother asking him how he was. Everyone felt like shit in this situation. My stomach was twisting in knots continuously, like my insides were a carousel.

"Garcia said you had an address for us." Morgan said, taking my go-bag and putting it in the back seat. We got into the SUV and I typed the address Ollie gave me into the built in GPS. We rode in silence, complete focus on the road and plan ahead. My mind was still going a million miles an hour. Ollie found out that Angelina Bunker's main hang out was a local dive bar. The dealer would spend the night drinking and selling drugs outside in the alleyway out back. The bar was still going strong when we found it, and we decided to park a block away to not arouse suspicion.

I got out of the SUV, storming into the bar. No one seemed to pay attention to the two new customers at the bar. Morgan and I both ordered a soda and took a seat at the bar, trying to look as casual as possible. I scanned the room, finding Angelina Bunker sitting at a booth in the corner of the room. She looked just like the picture Ollie had sent; short dark hair, square shaped face, and bright green eyes.

"Back right booth." I said to Morgan through my teeth. I pushed my half-finished soda towards the bartender and slid off the stool. I walked confidently over towards Bunker, sliding into the seat across from her. She looked up at me, a cigarette clutched between her teeth.

Bunker and I stared each other down for a moment. I slid my closed palm on the table top; sliding my thumb away to show the corner of a neatly folded fifty dollar bill. Bunker's eyes lit up with understanding, and with a stubble nod, she led me out of a side door. I scanned the dark alley quickly before body slamming Bunker against the brick wall. The drug dealer squawked, her arms flailing out.

"Tobias. You deal for a punk named Tobias?" I hissed, grabbing the back of her shirt in a tight grip. Bunker coughed, trying to wriggle out of my hold.

"No! I don't know nothing!" Bunker spat, her nails digging angrily into the gritty brick. I jerked her away from the wall before violently smashing her against it once again. Bunker yowled like an injured cat, a flash of blood from her nose splattering on the old brick.

"That means you know something. You deal for Tobias? Tobias Hankel?" I asked, taking one arm off her neck to fish out my phone. I pulled up the picture of Hankel and shoved the glowing screen into her face. She got a good look at the picture before nodding.

"That's one of mine." Bunker said, sagging against the wall. "Goes by the name Toby. Just saw him a day or two ago."

I felt adrenaline spike in my blood. "Where would I find him? What exactly did he buy from you?"

"Diluadid! Two, no, three vials of it. H-he's got this farm house on his property-" Bunker said in a rush.

"You're wasting my time. Tell me something that I don't already fuckin' know." I hissed, earning another cat-like cry from the woman. Bunker sniffled for a moment, trying to think.

"I…he's got a cabin far out…I-I don't know where though!" Bunker sobbed, her nose bleeding from my shove against the brick. "I-I tried to invite m-myself over…but h-he said his fa-father didn't want h-him having a-anyone over!"

I knew I wasn't going to get anything else out of her. I loosened my grip, and Bunker slumped to the ground, clutching her nose.

"If he comes to you again, go to the police. He's a killer." I said, pulling out my card from my back pocket. "Sorry I got a little rough. Wasn't sure if you were going to fight me or not."

Bunker reached out, with shaking hand, and accepted my card. She turned it around and read the name on the back. She looked up at me with a raised brow.

"That's the name of my cousin. She's a drug counselor; very hush hush. If you ever want to think about getting clean, give her a ring." I said, leaving the woman in the alley, stunned from my attitude doing a complete 180. Morgan was waiting for me at the SUV, phone in hand. I nodded, taking the phone from his outstretched hand.

"Garcia? It's Woods. I got ahold of Hankel's dealer. She said he's bought from her recently, more Diluadid. She said she didn't know an exact location, but she knew of a cabin." I spoke quickly, getting into the SUV with Morgan.

"Alright, get over here. This bastard's got my baby Reid on a video feed." Garcia hiccupped over her tears. I snapped the phone shut and told Morgan to fly with the sirens on. The SUV lit up like a Christmas tree, sirens wailing as we zoomed down dirt roads and crappily paved streets. We parked outside the Hankel house, which looked like it could have been the setting for a Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie remake.

Morgan and I rushed into the creaky house and found everyone scattered around. I went to Aaron, who filled me in more thoroughly about Hankel and his multiple personalities. A local sheriff entered the house to report a burglary at an electronics store. I stepped away as Aaron began to interrogate the sheriff.

A sniffle from the bathroom drew me in. "Guys?"

Emily was in the bathroom with JJ, who was bent over the sink. Her white button up was sprayed with blood. Her blonde hair was in a limp pony tail and her blue eyes looked ready to burst.

"Jay." I said, stepping into the room, which was a tight squeeze with the three of us, and wrapped my arms around her. Jay sniffled, pressing her forehead into my shoulder. I squeezed her harder and rocked us back and forth.

"Don't blame me." JJ whispered when she pulled away.

"Blame you? For what?" I asked, unraveling some toilet paper to dab at JJ's mascara stained streaks. JJ coughed, finding it slightly hard to breathe while trying to force down tears.

"For Spencer." JJ said, shooting a broken look at Emily. "We…we were supposed to stick together. It's my fault."

"No one thinks that." Emily said sternly, squeezing JJ's shoulder. I nodded, squeezing JJ's other shoulder.

"If anyone thinks that for a second, they're dumb and dead wrong." I whispered, squeezing her shoulder to get my point across. "It's a mutual decision to split up. You and Doc did what you thought was good at the time. It's alright."

"We're getting Reid back." Emily said. She sounded so sure, that for a moment, my insides stilled for a moment. My body felt lighter and my mind cleared.

And then everything went crumbling down.

"Guys! Guys, come here!" Morgan shouted from across the house. Emily, JJ, and I raced into a room that was filled with computer monitors. I felt all the air in my chest disappear because of the image on the screen. Reid was tied to a wooden chair. One of his socks was missing and a wound was freely bleeding somewhere on his scalp. His honey colored hair was now dark brown from a mixture of blood and sweat.

"He's been beaten." Emily said, her dark eyes trained on the monitors.

"Can't you track it?" JJ whispered. I wrapped my hand around her wrist and squeezed.

"Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer." Garcia whispered, frozen in shock.

"This is for us." Gideon said grimly, standing at the other side of JJ. "He knows we're here."

"I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick." Morgan seethed, turning away for a moment in anger.

"I'll join you." I said, unsure of my own feelings at the moment. I was angry, homicidal, scared, and broken at the same time.

"Why can't you find him?" Aaron said, fighting to keep his calm. That was Aaron's way: keep all emotions hidden until the threat was gone.

"He's rerouting to a new IP address every thirty seconds. I can't track him." Garcia said, swiftly typing on her keyboard. Every time she could get ahold of the IP, it would bounce to a new location.

_"Can you really see inside men's minds? See these vermin?" Hankel said to Spencer, motioning to something behind him. _

"Screens. He's got Spencer watching the screens." Gideon muttered, squeezing the back of Garcia's chair. Spencer sat stock still in the chair, his legs spread and knees bent at an odd angle.

_"Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live." _

My heart broke at the shattered look on Spencer's face. I saw something behind those hazel eyes harden.

_"No." _

_Hankel stormed towards Spencer, causing him to flinch. "I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior." _

_"You're a sadist in a psychotic break. Anything you say is untrue." Spencer said softly, looking Hankel straight in the eye. There was a momentary pause. _

_"The other heathens are watching. Choose who dies and I will say the name and address of the person to be saved." Hankel said sternly. _

"We're here, Spencer." I whispered, unsure if he could hear us or not. Aaron wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held on tightly. I clung to the familiarity and safety that I felt from Aaron.

_"I won't choose who'll be slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher." Spencer said, keeping his eyes on the ground_.

Out of all the times Spencer chose to use his sass…

_"You really seein' into my mind, boy?" Hankel said, ripping Spencer out of his chair. Spencer tried to pull away from the larger man, but he was being held to tightly. _

_"Choose one, save a life. Otherwise they're all dead." Hankel threatened. Spencer squirmed, only to be tossed back into the chair. Spencer curled in on himself, wincing in pain. Spencer seemed to tune out Hankel and looked towards the screens, a sadness shadowing his face. _

_"Far right screen." Spencer said brokenly, hanging his head. Hankel then identified the person that Spencer chose and announced her address. _

Garcia quickly tracked down the information. Gideon quickly was on his phone, speaking to the woman. He told her that he was with the FBI and to turn off her laptop.

"He's strong." JJ whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. I heard Morgan let out a shuddering breath, like he too was holding back tears.

_Spencer looked up, his hazel eyes wide with horror. "Raphael." _

Then the screen went blank.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

I couldn't negotiate with Raphael or Charles. I just had to hope that Tobias stayed for as long as he could. My feet throbbed painfully, as did the side of my head. In the moments of lucidity; every part of my body seemed to hurt.

A video camera was roughly placed in front of me. The person, who I discerned as Charles, scowled down at me.

"You really see inside men's minds?" Charles asked. "See these vermin?"

I stared blankly at the screens he had set up. They were showing different people inside their homes. Unknowing of the evil that was lurking.

"Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live."

I couldn't believe what he was asking of me. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. "No."

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior." Charles said, marching towards me in a typical alpha-male stride.

"You're a sadist in a psychotic break. Anything you say is untrue."

Charles glanced towards the video camera.

"The other heathens are watching." He said, staring at me with no emotion. "Choose who dies and I will say the name and address of the person to be saved."

They were watching. The team. They could see me like this. They were probably scared and vengeful. I hope that they could wrangle in their emotions long enough for this whole situation to end without any more bloodshed.

"I won't choose who'll be slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher." I muttered, trying to be submissive as possible while dismissing what he wanted. Charles frowned, surging forwards and wrapping his hands around my biceps. He dug his fingers into my arms and hauled me up onto my quaking knees and throbbing feet.

"You really seein' into my mind, boy?" Charles' shouted in my face. "Can't you see I'm not a liar?"

My mind swirled, the drugs still lingering in my system. I tried to pull away from Charles' face, but he jerked me closer.

"Choose one, save a life. Otherwise they're all dead." Charles threated, glaring at me with hatred. He threw me back into the chair, which rocked and creaked under my weight. I could hear my own breathing ringing in my ears. I could see Charles' lips moving, but my ringing ears couldn't discern what he was saying.

I looked at the screens, dread welling up inside me. These people…these innocent people. I knew I had to choose. I had to save someone while I had the chance. The screen furthest to my right caught my eye.

It was a woman; a woman with dark hair cooking in her kitchen. She had her laptop open listening to music while she cooked. She must have had a recipe opened as well, because every few moments she could come over and glace at her screen with a thoughtful look.

She reminded me of Bailey, the way she moved. Bailey would always listen to music or some news cast on YouTube while she cooked. I noticed that the other screens had more than one person. Two could fight better than a single woman, right?

"Far right screen." I muttered miserably. Charles loudly announced the woman's name and address. I didn't bother to pay attention; looking at the other screens. I just sentenced them to death. I just killed these people.

The woman on the far right screen answered her phone. She spoke for a second before rushing over towards her laptop. She covered her webcam with her hand while she shut down her laptop.

I saw a physical change in Hankel's demeanor. It wasn't Charles anymore, but it wasn't Tobias either.

"Raphael." I said, looking up at the 'angel' as he turned off the only link I had to my team.

"You've done your part." Raphael said blandly, staring ahead with stone hard orbs. "Now it's my turn."

I watched him walk out, unable to stop him. I dropped my chin to my chest, unable to control myself, and cried. Cried for the woman that I 'saved', who would most likely be forever scarred. Cried for whoever I just sentenced to death.

But most importantly, I cried for my team and my mother that I might never see again.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

Morgan stormed out of the computer room, slamming his shaking fists against the aged walls and doors. Everyone was too scared to move. JJ was quaking, using Emily as a crutch to keep her up. Aaron's arm was still wrapped around my shoulder, and my arm was still wrapped around his side.

Honestly, I couldn't tell you who was keeping who from falling.

"What do we do now? Wait for the 911 call and hope we get there in time?" The Sheriff said, an angry crease forming in his brow.

We didn't know how to respond; so none of us did.

Aaron and I hugged briefly before we separated. I slunk after Morgan, who was angrily fuming in the kitchen. JJ and Emily went outside for some air. Gideon, Aaron, Garcia, and the Sheriff stayed put in the computer room.

I sat down at the kitchen table, knowing enough to not interrupt Morgan's deep breathing. From what Morgan told me about his childhood, I knew that he could handle anger. He used the anger from what Carl did to him to make himself stronger and smarter than anyone could have imagined. And he would take this anger and turn it into pure resolve. And that resolve would find our Reid.

Morgan let out a loud shout, slamming his fist into a cupboard with such ferocity that the door broke from the hinges. I didn't jump at the sound of the cheap wooden cupboard hitting the ground. I stayed still and silent, waiting for Morgan to talk.

"This…can't be real." Morgan said softly, hanging his head. "We need Reid."

I didn't know what to say. I stood from my seat and took a stand beside the shaking man. We looked outside the kitchen window, looking into the cornfield that Spencer was dragged through.

About forty minutes later, the Sheriff entered the kitchen. There'd been a 911 call and a double murder.

Hankel struck again.


	13. Chapter 13: Revelations Part Two

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed!

And a special thanks for all the reviews from last chapter! It means so much to me that people love this story, and find Bailey to be realistic and reliable! (:

Read and Review!

* * *

**_Bailey _**

Gideon, Aaron, and I followed the Sheriff to the crime scene of the latest murders. CSI technicians were scouring the home, taking pictures and getting ready to transport the bodies of the victims to the coroner's office. I followed Gideon and Aaron into the living room where the bodies were found.

"I've got road blocks for a fifteen mile radius." The Sheriff muttered to Aaron, sounding irritated that nothing had been found yet.

"He has a house…" I said, recalling what the drug dealer told me. "Hankel's dealer said Hankel owned a house way far out. He's got to be close by if he hasn't hit the road blocks yet."

I prowled the living room, catching sight of the blood spatter that coated the couches. It looked like Hankel took the couple by surprise. He killed the woman first by cutting her throat. The man had run out of the room, but was quickly captured and dragged back into the living room. There, he was stabbed multiple times.

"Did he leave a message?" I asked, seeing a bloody footprint on the kitchen tile.

"What Bible passage?" Gideon corrected, turning his attention to the desktop computer.

"Isaiah 59. No one calls for justice, no one pleads their case with integrity…" Aaron read, his deep voice droning out. My vision tunneled as I watched Gideon sit down in front of the desktop.

"Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You're stronger than him. He cannot break you." Gideon said, staring unblinkingly into the webcam.

When Gideon quickly pushed away from computer, I couldn't help but slink over to the desktop. I sat in the white desk chair, trying not to cry. If Spencer was watching, he didn't need to see someone crying.

He needed to see strength.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

There was nothing I could do but watch. Watch as Raphael broke into those poor people's home and slaughtered them. I could hear their screams and the sound of their blood spattering as they were slaughtered. I cried, knowing it was too late for them when the first responders showed up.

It didn't take long for a slew of officers to show up. I froze when I saw Hotch follow the local Sheriff into the house, followed closely by Gideon and…

No…_please, no._

Bailey.

She followed behind Gideon, looking so small, so unsuspecting. Her cornflower blue eyes roved around the crime scene, taking in the gore. Each step was small and calculated, taking in each part of the room. Gideon was the first one to figure out that the webcam was still streaming. He sat down in front of the screen and started to speak.

"Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You're stronger than him. He cannot break you." Gideon said, staring me down. That was the same look he gave me when he wanted to get something into '_my thick head'_ as he liked to call it.

When Gideon stepped away, Bailey gingerly made her way over to the desktop. She sat down, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Spencer." She said, staring into the webcam. "We're coming to get you. You're going to be okay. You still owe me that date, Big Guy."

How Bailey managed to smile, I'll never know. Her smile was so sincere; so kind, that for a moment, I felt like I was free. The smile didn't reach her eyes, but the emotions were sincere.

No…I don't want her here. I want her as far from here as possible. I don't want Bailey in the same state, let alone the same county, as Hankel. I knew they wouldn't hear me, even if I shouted.

I hung my head, waiting for whichever of Tobais' personalities to return.

Thankfully, it was Tobias himself.

The submissive body language and the way the man gently opened the door made me positive it was Tobias. Tobias managed a small smile, which dropped when I didn't reciprocate the gesture. Tobias pulled his belt from his pants and tightened it around my bicep.

"Sorry I had to leave for a while." Tobias said sincerely, looking up at me.

"You can leave again and take me with you." I said quietly. If I could just use Tobias' kind nature against him, I just might be able to make a run for it. Wherever we were, it was far from civilization. I never even heard a car drive by. A park maybe?

"Father will be angry." Tobias said. He dropped his head, focusing on measuring the correct amount of painkillers into the needle.

"He can't find us." I swore, feeling the veins in my arm start to quake in anticipation.

"He always finds me." Was Tobias' reply.

"Tell me where we are." I said slowly. "My friends will come and they'll save us."

Tobias didn't answer for a moment, flicking the needle. He tapped the injector to make sure no air was in the needle. "We can't be saved."

"We can. We can. I promise. Tell me where we are and I'll save us both." I said, shaking as the needle point was brought closer and closer to my skin.

"Listen to me, it's not worth fighting." Tobias said softly, pressing the sharp point into my raw skin. "Tell me it doesn't make it better."

I couldn't respond due to the quick rush of the drug. I felt myself go cross-eyed and my skin start to prickle. My head fell back, smacking against the back of the chair. Tobias pulled the needle out of my arm and went over to the wall of screens.

I closed my eyes, and saw my mother sleeping in her bed.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

"Did you see his arm?" I said, following Aaron to the SUV. "He's being drugged. Spence might not even have a clue where he is."

Gideon was in the driver's seat, scowling out the windshield. He was silent as we drove back to the Hankel house. Aaron was checking his cellphone every two minutes. When he wasn't looking at this phone, he was glaring out the window. As if waiting for Spencer or Hankel to appear from the darkness.

"Tobias is trying to give Reid an escape from Charles." Aaron muttered, checking his phone again.

"Would Tobias help Spencer? What if we got ahold of Tobias and promised him refuge from his father?" I asked, leaning with the car as Gideon took a sharp turn down an unpaved road.

"Tobias is too afraid of his father to disobey him." Gideon muttered, speeding up the gravel road that led to the Hankel house. The older agent parked jerkily along the side of the house, causing us to lunge forward in our seats. Gideon was out of the SUV before I could bat an eye.

"He's going to be okay…right Aaron?" I asked, listening to the painful silence. Aaron unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door.

"We're going to find him, Bails." Aaron said confidently, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for me. I unbuckled and slid across the seats, stepping down onto the uneven ground.

"Tobias' dealer said he had a place somewhere far out. What would be out here? Cornfields? Parks? Graveyards? Farm houses?" I muttered, following Aaron into the house.

Inside the house, Gideon was raving at Garcia. Hankel had uploaded the video of his newest slaughter to the internet. There was no way that Garcia could take it down. She said that she would send out a mass warning that the video was actually a virus. That would stop many of the online viewers, but not all.

The warning was enough to let Hankel know that we were coming after him.

* * *

**_Spencer_**

When my mind cleared, Tobias was still in front of the screens, but his body language had changed. I couldn't tell who Hankel was right now. He was uploading his slaughter online, watching as the view count went up and people started to comment.

It was disgusting.

Just as he let out a sigh of contentment, a large red popup appeared on the screen. It was a warning; saying that downloading or opening this video would cause a virus on your computer. The views immediately stopped.

"No!" Hankel, who I could now tell was Charles, shouted, slamming his open palm onto the table. He marched towards me, snarling. "They're trying to silence my message."

"I can't control what they do. I'm not with them. I'm with you." I whimpered, feeling my sweaty hair matted to my forehead. I felt so achy, sweaty, and drained. I just wanted to go home, back to Virginia. Hell, I'd take going back to my family empty's house in Vegas.

"Oh really?" Charles hissed, turning back to his monitors. He pulled open a video window, which showed the recording of Gideon sitting down and speaking directly to me. Slowly, each of the four monitors began playing the recording, causing Gideon's voice to echo around the room.

"-You're stronger than him. He cannot break you."

Then, what I feared most. Bailey appeared on the recording, looking just as she had when I saw her on the live feed. Charles played through Bailey's message before turning off all his monitors.

"You think they can find me?" Charles demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. He saw her. Hankel saw Bailey. It was my worst nightmare coming alive.

"You're a liar." Charles boomed, causing me to jump. "A liar! A peon of the devil and protector of whores! First, the whore you brought to my doorstep, now this whore trying to use my own technology against me!"

It looked like he was going to continue his maniacal speech, then Charles suddenly froze. His angry eyes zoomed in on my arm. Tobias had left my shirt sleeve rolled up to my bicep. The bruising and needle holes in the crooks of my arms were clear indicators. Charles lunged at me, pushing my sleeve up further and stretching the tender skin.

"You're pitiful! Just like my son!" Charles crowed, storming over to his computers. He pulled out the video camera and the tripod again. Charles turned the camera on and slammed it down in front of me.

"This ends now."

* * *

**_Bailey _**

I didn't know what to do. Emily and Morgan were working on the profile in the kitchen. Sure, I was an FBI agent too, but I work with drugs, the reasons people take drugs, and the reasons why people do horrible things for drugs. I didn't work with why people chose to murder in such sadistic ways.

Aaron was trying to talk down JJ, who had become even more inconsolable. She blamed herself for what was happening. I could understand her frustration, but not that she was frustrated that no one was blaming her. JJ didn't deserve to be blamed.

Unsure of myself, I went to try and help Garcia and Gideon. Maybe Hankel had something in his computers about his secret hideaway. Garcia was trying to track where the video of the latest slaughter was being uploaded from, but she wasn't having much luck.

"Tech Mama." I greeted softly, gingerly stepping into the room. "Gideon."

"Bailey-Wailey." Garcia greeted tensely, typing swiftly across her keyboard. Gideon grunted, leaning heavily against the back of Garcia's chair. I took a seat on one of the creaky wooden chairs beside Garcia, watching the information fly across the screen.

Then, the screen fizzled and a video feed appeared.

"G-Gideon…" Garcia whimpered, reaching back to grab Gideon's hand.

_"This ends now." Hankel groused, stepping into the view of the camera. Spencer was curled up on the chair, covered in sweat. He looked so scared; and my heart began its newfound erratic beat. Hankel slapped Spencer across the face, causing Spencer to yelp. _

_"Confess!" _

_"I haven't done anything." Spencer cried, his voice muffled with tears._

My hand reached out and grappled for Garcia, who gripped my hand tightly. My throat started to constrict painfully.

_Hankel punched Spencer in the cheek, causing him to jerk to the side. Spencer slowly sat back up, but was hunched over in pain. His curly hair was covering his eyes, but I could see the bright red tone his skin had already started turning. _

_"Tobias!" Spencer cried. "Help me!" _

_"He can't help you, he's weak." Hankel, obviously under his father's personality hissed, looking disgusted at Spencer's tears. "Confess!" _

_Hankel lashed out with a powerful backhand. Spencer jerked in the chair, but was unable to fall off because of his bonds._

I held back my own cry as Spencer grunted, trying to take the pain.

_Hankel walked behind Spencer, jerking him upright by a tight grip on his matted hair. Spencer grimaced, tears sliding down his reddened face. "Confess your sins" _

_"…No." Spencer whimpered. Infuriated, Hankel threw Spencer, chair and all, down to the ground. Spencer's head hit the ground with a loud bang. Then, still strapped to the overturned chair, Spencer began making the most horrendous choking noises that I ever heard. _

_Then came the seizing. _

I rushed into the kitchen just in time to throw up into the sink.

* * *

**_Spencer _**

Everything was swirling. I was trying to breath, but I felt like my entire chest was filled with liquid. I felt the spit sliding down my chin, but my airways never cleared. My head throbbed and my vision started to fade to gray.

"That's the Devil vacating your body." I heard Charles mutter. I couldn't see. Was he still here? Was he above me?

They were watching. The team; they were watching me.

Then, all at once, nothing mattered. What was once darkness and pain was replaced with a soft light and the feeling of…calm. I felt like I was floating in my bathtub at home. I was weightless and I could smell pears and cherry blossoms.

That soft light grew brighter, but not blindingly so. It was warm, like the sun. A breeze ruffled my hair and cooled my face, and that too smelt like pears and cherry blossoms. I felt my bare feet touch something akin to smooth cobblestone. My hands, once bloodied and cracked, were clean and smooth.

Then, a burst of pain.

Someone pumping my chest and pushing air into my lungs through my lips.

And the light faded.

* * *

**_Bailey _**

I was in the kitchen, running the faucet, trying to wash away the taste of stomach acid from my mouth. Morgan was rubbing my back after taking my hair and tying it into a ponytail. I smiled up at the taller agent, who smiled back at me with tears in his eyes.

"You did the right thing. You had to stop the video; there was no question. You did the right thing." We heard Gideon muttering in the hallway, holding his head in his hands. I frowned, feeling rage surge in my veins. If Gideon didn't tell Garcia to stop the video, Spencer might still be alive.

No…I can't think like this. Not here. Not now.

Aaron, who went into the computer room to comfort Garcia, opened the door with a shocked expression. "You all need to see this."

I couldn't see him, but I had to. I forced myself to follow Morgan into the computer room and found the most surprising situation.

_Hankel, most likely Tobias, was giving Spencer CPR. He would press on Spencer's still chest and breathe into him. Everyone waited with baited breath, praying that Spencer would start to breathe. I held my hands over my chest, hoping that Spencer's heart would start to beat just as quickly as mine was. _

_Spencer coughed, gagging up phlegm. He spat, turning his head to the side. Spencer took deep, shaky breaths; his wide eyes looking around the room._

The entire room let out a mutually held breath of relief.

"Wait. When was the last video posted?" Emily asked, leaning in closer.

"9:23." Garcia answered quickly, cleaning a streak of multicolored mascara and eyeliner from her cheek.

"A-and what were the times of death?"

"The 911 call came in at 9.04, so it must have been moments later." Aaron said, his dark gaze burning into the computer screen.

"That's only a 19 minute difference." JJ said, clawing her shaking hand through her tousled hair.

"He's close." I whispered, tugging on Morgan's sleeve anxiously.

"How long would it take to post the mpeg?" Morgan asked, the gears in his head turning.

"Two, three minutes." Garcia said, sounding breathless.

"Let's call it two. You figure at 60 miles an hour in a residential area, that Hankel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene." Morgan said, causing everyone in the room to look at each other with wide eyes.

"Garcia, can we see that on a map?" Aaron asked. Garcia scurried into action, pulling up a map and charting out the distance that Hankel could have traveled.

"Call the sheriff." Gideon grumbled. "I want that area locked down like its marshal law."

Morgan and I turned to leave the room, when movement on the screen caused us all to freeze. My chest, which was pounding painfully, froze to a halt. My lungs burned. My eyes were so dry that they ached.

"Guys." JJ warned, clasping her quaking hands to her chest.

_Hankel, wearing a long brown coat, strode around Spencer's body. Spencer gasped for air, his head lolling from side to side. Hankel looked down at Spencer, his face so emotionless that it chilled my skin. _

_"You came back to life." Hankel said softly, emotionless as stone. _

_"Raphael." Spencer said softly. _

I leaned forward, clinging to his every breath. I'd never thought I would hear his voice again.

_"That can only be one of two reasons." Hankel, apparently under possession of his 'Raphael' personality, whispered. _

_"I was given CPR." Spencer said back, sounding exhausted. _

_"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?" Hankel asked. _

_"Seven." Spencer whispered._

_"The seven angels who have the seven trumpets prepare themselves to sound. The first sound of hail and fire mixed with blood. And they were thrown to Earth." Hankel said, droning emotionlessly. _

"He thinks its revelations. The seven arch angels versus the seven angels of death." Aaron said, scratching at his chin. Hankel lifted Spencer, chair and all, back to the rightful position.

_"The man that spoke directly to you…is he one of the seven?" Hankel demanded, watching as Spencer's head lolled. _

_"Y-yes." Spencer said, squeezing his eyes shut. _

_"And the woman?" Hankel asked, beginning to slowly circle Spencer. _

_"What woman?" Spencer said, trying to keep his voice even. _

_"The woman who spoke to you." Hankel said, stopping in front of Spencer. "Do you serve her? Does she serve you?" _

_Spencer didn't speak, just continued to breathe heavily. He looked up at Hankel with such distain; an expression that I never witnessed crossing Spencer's face in the months of knowing him. _

_"Tell me who you serve." Hankel asked after a pregnant pause. _

_"I serve you." Spencer said, dropping his hateful expression in favor of a submissive frown. Spencer knew the tables of this fight; he wouldn't stand a chance against Hankel while he was drugged, bleeding, and tied to a chair. _

_"Then choose one to die." _

_"What?" Spencer gasped breathlessly. _

_"Your team members. Choose one to die." Hankel said, staring down impassively at Spencer. _

_"Kill me." Spencer whispered. _

JJ let out a small whimper, covering her mouth with her shaking hands. Morgan began to shake, gripping the door frame so tightly that I thought it would splinter. I felt the floor give out underneath me, and Gideon was able to grab my shoulder before I fell to my knees. I shoved the older agent away none-to-gently, still internally blaming him.

_"You said you weren't one of them." Hankel said. _

_"I lied." Spencer shot back with a strength I thought he had lost. _

_"Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies." Hankel pressed._

_"No." _

_"If you do not choose, I will. And I will start with the women. The one that came to my door. Then the one that spoke to you." Hankel's words made Spencer freeze. _

_"No." Spencer said, but it wasn't as strong as his previous no. It was a plea. _

_Hankel pulled a gleaming pistol from the inside of his coat. He spun the barrel and cocked it, the firearm fully prepared. He pressed the barrel against Spencer's sweaty and bloody brow. _

_ "Choose, and prove you will do God's will." _

_"No." Spencer said, bravely staring down the barrel of the gun. Hankel pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The bastard was playing Russian roulette. The click of the empty bullet chamber caused a brutal pain to burst from my chest. _

I didn't know what to do, so I put my head in my hands and began to whisper a prayer that I had heard hundreds of times. "May you see God's light on the path ahead. When the road you walk is dark, may you always hear, even in your hour of sorrow, the gentle singing of the lark. When times are hard may hardness, never turn your heart to stone. May you always remember, when the shadows fall: You do not walk alone."

_"Choose." _

_"I won't do it." Spencer said, staring Hankel square in the eye. Hankel pulled the trigger again, but the bullet was nothing but a blank. _

_"Life is a choice." Hankel said again, almost as if he was trying to persuade Spencer. _

_"No." Spencer said, not flinching as the trigger was pulled again. The shot was another blank. _

How many had that been? How much luck did Spencer have left?

_"Choose." Hankel said. Spencer licked his lips, looking at the barrel pressed between his eyes. He knew the chances of the next pull causing a bullet to lodge itself into his brain. _

_"I choose…Aaron Hotchner." Spencer said. _

Everyone froze, looking towards Aaron in horror. Aaron frowned, furrowing his brow and listening intently to every word Spencer said.

_"He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 "Let him not deceive himself in trust, emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility. For these shall be his recompense." _

_Hankel's arm rose, pointing his revolver at the wall above Spencer's head. The man pulled the trigger, which fired a bullet. Spencer winced as the entire room let out a breath of relief. _

So close…I was far too close to losing Spencer again. A little bullet; a small piece of metal almost took a friend away from everyone.

_Hankel produced another bullet from deep within his pocket. He loaded it into his revolver and gave it a spin. "For gods will." _

The screen went black. Everyone barreled out of the room, flopping brokenly on random pieces of furniture. Hotch was the first to storm out and pull a beaten bible out of Hankel's side table.

"I'm not a narcissist." Aaron said, flipping open the bible. We all stood, surrounding the dark haired agent.

"Oh, come on. You can't take anything he said to hear-" Gideon tried to comfort Aaron.

"No! Stop, _stop_. Alright. Everybody, right now: what's my worst quality?" Aaron demanded, holding open the bible.

This all felt a little too much like '_The Crucible'_ for my taste.

Soon, Aaron's gonna start choosing who's a witch because they were dancing naked in the woods.

Everyone looked like they were on edge; a new awkwardness was in the air. Aaron sighed, dropping his shoulders. "Ok, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

"You're a bully." JJ said honestly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm a bully." Aaron parroted, nodding his head.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes." Morgan said dismissively, shrugging his shoulders.

"Right." Aaron said, turning towards Emily and me.

"You can't take a joke." I said, earning a blank look from Aaron.

"I already said I had no sense of humor." Aaron said, his brow twitching. I managed a small smirk, which was as close to a smile as I could muster.

"Yeah; I'm just emphasizing that point." This caused Aaron to roll his eyes and his lips to twitch into a small smile for a millisecond.

"You don't trust women as much as men." Emily said quickly.

"Okay, I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team. 'Cause I don't. Ever." Aaron said, shaking the bible in his hands. "Reid and I argued the definition of classic narcissism and he knew that I would remember that. And he also quoted Genisis chapter 23 verse 4."

JJ pulled the bible out of Aaron's hands and quickly found the passage. "_'I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.'_"

"He…misquoted." I couldn't believe it. Spencer prided himself about his memory.

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on _purpose_." Aaron was positive of this.

"He's in a cemetery." Morgan said, his brows jumping in surprise. The knowledge that we had a clue was like a balm to my frayed nerves. I coughed, practically collapsing onto the aged and battered couch.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked, crouching down and placing his hand on my knee. I didn't know I was shaking until Aaron's hand almost vibrated off my knee. I stifled a broken choke and nodded, putting my head down. The world was spinning and all noises were muffled.

"Just…I need a second." I said, placing my throbbing head in my hand. Aaron nodded in understanding and left to go back to the computer room with Garcia. JJ sat down beside me, rolling up the sleeves of her bloody shirt.

"We've got him." JJ spat, shaking in anger. "We've got that son of a bitch."

I nodded, pressing my shoulder against JJ's. "We're gonna get Spence home."

The two of us sat quietly for a few moments, just trying to stabilize ourselves. We could hear the others scurrying around in the computer room. Garcia couldn't find any cemeteries in the seventeen mile radius, but they did get another clue from one of Spencer's earlier video clips.

Spencer called Hankel a poacher, so Aaron had Garcia search for any reports of poaching within that seventeen mile radius. "One farmer claims someone poached two of his sheep."

Excited, JJ and I wobbled into the computer room. Garcia's fingers flew across her keys, the scope of her search shrinking.

"Where we talking about?" Morgan said, practically breathing over Garcia's neck. Garcia's scope closed in, focusing on a large green area on the map. JJ lurched towards the screen, her light blue eyes focused.

"What's that large patch of green there?" JJ gasped, hope alight in her eyes. Was it a park? Why would a park be out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere?

"Marshall Parish. I think it's an old plantation." Aaron said, whipping out his cell phone.

"Wait! Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from _Marshall_." Emily said, recalling some of Tobias' journals that she had found upstairs in one of his rooms.

"Guys…" Garcia whispered, perking up in her seat. "There's a cemetery on the grounds!"

"Let's go!" Aaron said, leading the rush out to the SUVs. The police officers followed behind us, jumping into their cruisers and turning their sirens on. Aaron, Gideon, JJ, Emily, Morgan and I all jammed into one SUV, quickly strapping on the FBI issued bullet proof vests.

I double checked my guns as the SUV shook and swerved violently over dirt and gravel roads. Aaron's grip on the steering wheel was marble white and I could hear Gideon murmuring directions to him. I was jolted into my seat mate, Morgan, who smiled down at me. I smiled back, unable to form words.

We were getting Spencer back.


End file.
